


Unsteady

by VaguelyEmi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Confused Sam Winchester, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation in Bathroom, Minor Character Death, Minor Character(s), Original Character(s), Protective Dean Winchester, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Sick Sam Winchester, Slow Burn, Suicide, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, broment, djinn, trigger warning, vampire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-03-15 15:22:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 94,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13616157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaguelyEmi/pseuds/VaguelyEmi
Summary: Terrified of the nightmares that plague him, Sam has been having trouble sleeping. He thinks maybe Dean is the answer but summoning the courage to actually ask for help might be more than he can do. Find out what happens when he doesn't have a choice but to seek out his brother.OrA semi-canonical journey where Sam and Dean find their happily ever after.(Follows the show loosely, answering the question of what it would look like if all that subtext between the boys wasn't so subtle)





	1. Unsteady

**Author's Note:**

> This is a HARD [E] rated story. However I am a fan of escalation so Sam and Dean will build up to it in a way I think will keep them in character. At least as best as I can do anyway. 
> 
> The story is mainly told from Sam's perspective so chapter titles are inspired by songs I think that Sam would like. 
> 
> It's my first time writing so please forgive my mistakes. Also I'd really love to hear from you what you think of the story. Thank you.
> 
> Unsteady - X Ambassadors

Sam started awake, heart pounding. He took a deep breath and stared at the glowing digital face of the clock near his bed.

_3:17am_. 

He looked around the room as he tried to shake the cold fingers of terror. The shadows warped into ghostly shapes reminiscent of his time in Hell.  

He stretched his long limbs, legs hanging off the bed's edge. He'd gotten used to the fact that most beds couldn't fit his long frame, so he didn't even notice anymore. He hugged his pillow and sighed. There's no way he was going back to sleep.  

' _Guess it's time to get up_.' He knew it was just a dream but in that moment it felt too close to reality. He needed to distance himself from the truths it whispered.  

He sat on the edge of his bed and ran an absent hand through his disheveled hair.  

' _I can start cataloging that book on Mayan sacrificial magics_.' It was as good a place to start as any.  

He padded down the hall to the library, barely noticing the cold floor as he lost himself in his plans for the day.  Their sole aim, distract him from the demons clawing at the corners for his attention. 

\---

Sam refocused his attention on his surroundings when a steaming cup appeared in his periphery. Immediately the scent of a rich dark roast stole his attention and his stomach clenched in hunger.  

"Dude. How long you been here?" Dean asked, looking at all the scattered books on the wooden table.  

Sam shrugged. In truth he really didn't know what time it was. He'd forgotten to take his phone with him. 

Dean gave him a brief considering look when he took another sip of his coffee before shrugging himself. The kid was weird.  

"Hungry?" 

Sam nodded absently. His book had already recaptured his attention.  

"What you feel like?" 

"Whatever you make is fine." he said distractedly. 

"Really." His tone was heavy with disbelief in the way only Dean Winchester could pull of. 

"You're not gonna ask for something douchey like a Kale salad? You feeling alright?" 

Sam smiled to himself. Dean had a habit of making him seem more picky than he actually was. Most people would probably find this annoying but Sam loved it when they teased each other like that. He usually won anyway.  

He pushed his book away and gave Dean his attention. He could already feel his features moving into what Dean liked to call his bitch face but he couldn't help it. It came from being the little brother for 34 years.  

"Well, Dean," he said smugly. "Do you know how to make a kale salad?" 

"Sam, it's a salad. What's to know?" 

"Actually unlike the other leafy greens, kale needs spec-" 

"You would know this," interrupted Dean.

"Fine." Sam said, getting annoyed. He settled into a more relaxed pose in his chair, his body fully turning to Dean. "Do we have kale?" 

"Well. No but..." Dean trailed off.  

"So whatever you make is fine," he answered with a self satisfied smug smile. 

"So whatever you make is fine," Dean mocked over exaggeratedly but Sam could hear the smile in his voice so he refocused on his book knowing that breakfast would be delicious.  

In the corner of his mind he registered the brief squeeze Dean gave his shoulder as he left.  

\---

Gasping, Sam fought his way to wakefulness as the remnants of his dream struggled to keep its hold on him. He could feel the panic trying to take over. The dark walls of his room closing in around him. 

He forced himself to sit up. The thin covers sliding off his chest unchecked. He took deep calming breaths, hoping that that would stave off what could be a massive attack.  

"It's not real." 

Deep breath in. 

"It's just a dream."

Exhale.

"Everything is fine."

It had been a week since the first nightmare. He'd had one every night since and they kept getting worse.

Taking a few more breaths he got up, ready to face the day.  

\-- 

Sam's eyes flew open, his pupils dilating as they desperately searched to identify his surroundings. He could feel the mounting panic as his eyes darted around the dark and unfamiliar room. 

He heard a deep breath and rustling to his right and immediately settled. 

Dean. 

The memories came pouring back in. He was on a hunt with Dean. They were in Louisiana, dealing with a simple salt and burn. So simple in fact that they arrived yesterday night and were able to dispatch the ghost last night. 

Barely worth the drive really. He turned over to look at Dean and immediately regretted the action. It was like his brain refocused its full attention on his shoulder and throbbing pain started to radiate through his body. 

Clenching his eyes shut, he froze as the waves of nauseating pain pulsated. All he could do was breathe through it until it passed. Eventually he was able to focus on other things as the pain lessened to a maddening pulse.  

The case _had_ been an easy one but for one complication. He was distracting the ghost while Dean applied the salt and accelerator when he'd miscalculated and the ghost had thrown him into a headstone.  

Luckily, he blocked his fall with his shoulder. He was so filled with adrenaline at the time that he'd simply gotten up and kept running. A hurt shoulder was definitely better than a dead one.  

He had taken a really good pain killer when they were done, figuring it was just a minor injury but he was starting to think it might be worse than he originally thought.  

He gingerly reached for the bottle of pills near his bed and swallowed one dry. There was no way he was going to be able to get up fr water at that point.  

' _If it still hurts this badly in the morning_ ,' He thought, ' _I'll tell Dean_.'  

Already he could feel the waves of pain ebbing and sleep soothing through him.  

Dean firmly in his sights, his eyes drifted closed, nightmare completely forgotten.  

\-- 

Sitting against the headboard, Sam stared into the empty void that was the darkness of his bedroom.  

He had not slept for four nights now and was starting to feel like a zombie. 

The morning after their hunt in Louisiana, he woke up in so much pain that Dean had rushed him to the hospital.  

Luckily his shoulder was not broken but it was bad enough.  

The doctor, all five foot three inches of her, gave him such a quelling look when he tried to throw bullshit at her about how he got hurt, that he was more than willing to follow her instructions of sick leave and light or no activity for three weeks. 

His job was fighting monsters and completely voluntary so it wasn't really a hardship. And the way Dean was nodding raptly at the doctor's instructions told him that he wouldn't be doing anything much anyway. 

For the first week it was fine.  He was completely drugged and Dean was at his beck and call. The second week though was a little more strained. 

Sam was an addict. He knew it and so did Dean. So that second week, Dean cut him off from the pain meds. Only allowing him one before bed. 

He became more irritable because of the pain and as a result they were getting on each others nerves to the point that Sam found Dean a case and chased him out the bunker.  

Dean's been gone almost six days now. This is the fourth night that Sam has been awake in his bed.  

The first week back, he'd been so drugged and loopy that he didn't remember dreaming. The second week he was so busy being annoyed with Dean, so _focused_ on Dean that he'd forgotten completely about his nightmares.  

The first night Dean left is when it all came crashing down. It's been years since they'd gone on separate or solo hunts. One was always with the other to watch his back.  

Sam was always there to save Dean and vice versa. But he wasn't there this time. 

As he laid in his bed that first night his brother, thousands of miles away, the stray thought, _what if something happens and I'm not there,_ wiggled its way into his mind and wouldn't go away. 

He'd had the worst nightmare yet. To the point where he ended up calling Dean at 2am in the morning just to make sure he was still alive. 

Turns out Dean hadn't even arrived yet.  He was still driving. He was only able to relax slightly when Dean promised to call him again in the day time but sleep was definitely out of the question. 

Dean did call the next day and of course teased him mercilessly. 

This had led him into a false sense of security and if he thought the nightmare before was bad the one he had that night rocked him to his foundations. And that was the last straw.  

He couldn't take it anymore. 

Dean continued to call him everyday despite his earlier teasing but Sam knew that he wasn't going to be safe from the nightmares until he could see for himself that Dean was indeed alive and well. 

It's been four sleepless nights. The first two nights he spent working in the library but by the third night he lost the ability to retain any of the information he was trying to absorb. He could feel just how tired he was but his mind refused to shut down. 

Dean was driving back right this moment and would be home sometime in the afternoon . He could wait a few more hours to sleep. Besides this was getting ridiculous. He needed to solve the problem once and for all. 

And so he stared into the darkness waiting, thinking.


	2. Wake Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wake Up - Eden

It’s surprising how loud silence can be. He’d lived in the bunker for years now but he never noticed just how much ambient sound filled the cavernous rooms. The lights buzzed softly overhead. The machinery that powered the place thrummed. It wasn’t a distracting sound. Just present—noticeable in the absence of his brother.

Sam sat at the first chair in the war room, looking up the stairs. Any moment now, Dean would appear at the top and all the noise in the room would disappear.

Dean had started his long drive from Pennsylvania late last night. While it was a twenty five hour drive, he knew that Dean would make it home closer to twenty hours and truth be told he couldn’t wait to see his brother. It had only been a week and they talked on the phone everyday, but it felt like he’d forgotten what Dean looked like.

He could feel this low grade excitement humming below the surface of his skin. It mixed in with the vibrating exhaustion of his body. Anticipation at seeing his best friend again. He was almost giddy with it – although that could again be the exhaustion.

He looked at the book in front of him, barely noticing the words on the page. It was just there as a prop anyway so Dean wouldn’t know that he was sitting there, waiting for him. He lost himself in his thoughts as he waited.

\---

The familiar releasing of the locks jolted him into the present and his heart started to pound against his chest. _That was kinda weird,_ he thought, but he didn’t have the time to focus on it. At the top of the stairs he could see the door opening and there was Dean entering the room with a giant grin on his face. 

“Hiya Sammy. Missed me?” he asked as he entered the room, before shuffling down each step in a casual run. Before Sam could even formulate an answer to that that wasn’t half way embarrassing, Dean stopped in front of him, arms open. “Well? Where’s my hug? I could have died out there you know.” 

Sam’s heart squeezed a little as that echoed his earlier worries but he pushed it down forcibly. Dean was just joking. 

He got up with a smile and stepped into his brother’s embrace. “Welcome home Dean,” he said as he closed his arms around him tightly, slapping him on the back to emphasize his words. 

He felt Dean’s arms closed around him just as tightly, one hand in his hair, cradling his skull briefly. “Thanks Sammy,” before releasing the hug and putting Sam at arms length to give him a concerned look. “Dude. You okay? How’s your shoulder?” 

“I’m alright. Just tired is all,” he hedged not meeting his brother’s eyes. “And my shoulder’s good. Barely hurts anymore.”

Dean nodded at that. “You didn’t have to wait up for me you know. If you were tired, you should’ve just gone to bed.”

“I wasn’t waiting for you,” Sam spluttered. _How_ _did he know?_

“Uh huh,” Dean said, taking the seat opposite Sam’s.

Sam went over to the liquor tray and poured him a shot of whiskey. Plopping it down in front of his brother, he took his seat again.

“You’re my favourite,” Dean said as thanks.

Smiling, Sam waved it off and asked, “So? How’d it go?”

He leaned back in his chair, listening to Dean’s colourful retelling of his hunt involving a cursed object. Things were right with the world again. He didn’t even realize that he’d fallen asleep until Dean gently shook him awake. “Go to bed Sam.”

“Not tired. Listening,” he said with sleep muffled voice.

“Dude you _just_ fell asleep. I wasn’t going to say anything but you’re kinda looking like something that I’d have to hunt. Go to bed. I’ll tell you the rest in the morning.”

“Alright.” He did feel sleepy finally. Lifting his six three frame, he shambled down the hall to his room, a ghost of a smile fighting to take over his lips. He didn’t know how Dean did it, but he always managed to make Sam feel like that little boy again.

He dropped his long frame onto his bed and was asleep in seconds...

\---

He could feel himself slowly drifting into wakefulness. For the first time in a long time, he felt good. Turning over onto his back, he threw a hand over his eyes as he stretched out his legs. Since there were no windows in the bunker, it was hard to tell what time of day it was but it felt like he’d slept for a long time.

He sat up and stretched his limbs luxuriously. There were only the faint echoes of pain in his shoulder and he rotated it slightly to see what kind of mobility he had available. He hadn’t been able to do his proper workout routine since he’d gotten hurt, seems like he’d be able to start again, as early as tomorrow even.

His stomach made this truly embarrassing sound that had him blushing even though he was in the room by himself. Guess everything was returning to normal now that he’d had a decent night’s sleep. Getting up, he stretched again, a low groan of satisfaction escaping him as his bones popped and his muscles loosened.

 _Food_ , his mind demanded, sending him to the kitchen.

\---

“He lives,” Dean greeted as soon as he entered the kitchen. 

“I guess I was more tired than I thought.” He sat at the table as Dean started to pull things out of the fridge. 

“No kidding. Dude you looked like a revanant last night.” 

“Ha ha.” 

Dean placed a cup of coffee in front of him and his stomach grumbled again, quietly this time. He took a nice long drink of the hot liquid, his eyes closed in pleasure and appreciation. Sighing, he put the cup down and turned to his brother. 

“Where’re the scissors now?” Contrary to what Dean thought, Sam had been listening to his story of the cursed ancient pair of scissors.

“It’s in a warded iron box. One of Bobby’s old ones. I left it in the Impala so you could do your thing and destroy it.” 

Sam nodded, already making a mental inventory of all the items he would need to safely destroy the object. Although from what Dean had said last night, this was not a typical cursed object so he might have to see it and do some research. The regular methods might not work and he didn’t want to make a mistake and end up with one of them wearing a pair of scissors. After all the things they had done and been through, dying by cursed object would get them laughed out of Heaven and Hell both.

“I can see that big brain of yours working. You gonna need my help?” He placed a heaping plate of scrambled eggs with veggies and toast in front of his brother.

“Nah. I might have to do some research on the object but apart from that I’ll just catalogue it and destroy it.”

Dean sat next to him with his own plate of eggs and bacon and nodded. “Good. I didn’t like how Baby handled on the drive here. I wanna get under her hood and see what’s what.”

\---

Gasping, he jolted up from his bed, his heart racing a mile a minute as he struggled to catch his breath. He tried to force himself to calm as he slowly sank back down onto his bed, a frustrated sound escaping his lips. 

“Fuck!” he said with feeling. _Why did this keep happening?_ He knew what the problem was but to deal with it, he would have to talk to Dean and he did not want to. He did not want to appear weak to his brother.

He just wanted to get a few nights of restful, uninterrupted sleep. 

Sighing, he got up. He might as well start up his workout routine. He was getting out of shape anyway. He turned on his light and got dressed into running gear. He grabbed his phone and headphones and turned on his running playlist.

As the high paced music started to play, he strapped a knife holster to his thigh with a rune-etched blade in. He also got his “FBI” gun holster and gun just to be safe. It was four in the morning. Lots of people would already be up and about by this time but it was always better to be prepared.

\--- 

Sinking down from the push up, Sam’s mind flashed back to a memory from earlier in the day. He’d just returned from his run, sweaty and exhausted and Dean was sitting in the library cleaning the guns. 

Dean liked to make sure that their weapons were in top condition so he would sometimes just get them out so he could clean and calibrate them.

He gave him a look as Sam came down the stairs, but didn’t say anything. At the time, he’d been in such a hurry to escape the room without having to answer questions, that Sam didn’t really pay it much attention. He’d simply said a quick, “morning,” over his shoulder on his way to the showers.

Right now though, in the dead of night, while he tried to exhaust himself with exercise, his mind was hyper magnifying that look.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that Dean suspected something. He hadn’t said anything through out the day. In fact, it was a normal day for them, but Sam knew that he knew, somehow, and this made him feel unease.

He started the set over again, even more determined. Sweat dripped off his bare back. He was going to knock himself out if it was the last thing he did.

_1, 2, 3..._

-

Sam paced his room, groaning in frustration. He’d been awake now for five days. He was so tired but the fear of another earth shattering nightmare kept him awake. It was like his mind refused to release its hold on consciousness. In contrast, he could feel a slight tremor in his limbs as they begged him to rest. 

He was pacing the floor of his room as he tried to build the courage to go to Dean. It wasn’t too late right now. Chances were high that his brother was still awake but for some reason he couldn’t seem to get himself to walk the few feet down the hall.

He just wanted to sleep. He looked at the door again and made another sound of frustration when instead of going to it, he made another circuit of his room.

Dean was always so tough. He was his fearless big brother and Sam had been trying to be like him all his life. He didn’t want Dean to seem him when he was so weak. He wanted Dean to be able to trust and depend on him the same way he could Dean. 

He ran his hand carelessly through his hair as his mind raced. 

He was actually surprised that Dean hadn’t called him out all week even though he had to know something was up. Not much escaped Dean’s notice and he’d been tense all week waiting. It was kind of ridiculous just how on edge he was. It’s not that he’d never looked weak in front of Dean. His demon blood days and the trials came to mind immediately. 

Maybe he didn’t want Dean to ever look at him the same way he did as when he was addicted to demon blood. His brother had lost faith in him because he wasn’t strong enough. He stopped being an equal to Dean and became the nuisance little brother he had to take care of.

The problem was that he couldn’t do this on his own. By not trusting in Dean, he was endangering them both. What if he kept going like this and something bad happened during a hunt? Last time he’d hurt his shoulder and it was basically a milk run. What about the next time when their backs were to the wall and Dean was depending on him? 

He sat on his bed at that sobering thought, then got up again. 

“Fuck it!” he said, yanked the door open and stepped out.

He walked quickly down the hall to Dean’s room, not allowing himself to think. Stopping in front of the door, his fist hovered. He _could_ still go back to his room.

With determination, he rapped on the door.

“Dean?” he called softly.


	3. (I've Got You) Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brother - Kodaline

“Dean,” he called softly. His heart was thundering against his rib cage. He did not know why he was so nervous. It was just Dean.

“Yea?” he heard, before the door opened, catching him off guard. He felt silly standing there, but Dean did not pay that any mind. His brows were already creased in concern. “What’s wrong.”

“No- no,” Sam hastened to say. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just...” There, his voice trailed off as his words escaped him.

“Well come on in. No use standing out here in the hallway.” He moved to the side to allow Sam room to enter.

Gratefully, Sam quickly entered the room. It granted him a slight reprieve. He had a few precious seconds to gather his thoughts.

He watched as Dean closed the door and took a sit on the couch in his room. Sam started to feel silly standing in the middle of Dean’s room. Like a child in a place they weren’t allowed to be.

Dean tightened the straps of his dead guy robes. He looked like he was just preparing to go to bed. Sam couldn’t help thinking that he looked comfortable, relaxed.

“Well. What’s going on?” Dean asked expectantly.

“Actually... So...” he gestured with his hands awkwardly. Now that he was here, he did not know how to say what was on his mind. Guess the reprieve didn’t really do much.

“Come on Sam. Spit it out.” Dean, impatient as always.

“So it’s not a big deal or anything but I’ve kind of been having nightmares and trouble sleeping, so can I crash on your couch?” Sam said in a rush. _I don’t want to be alone_ , hang in the air around them both unsaid. He stood there feeling more vulnerable than he had at any point in his life. It felt like he’d just bared his throat to a knife.

Dean opened his mouth to speak but then abruptly closed it. He was giving Sam that look again. It soon it turned into a considering one.

“You have been looking really worn down lately man. Want to talk about it?”

At this Sam made a slight pained face. “Honestly right now I’m just so tired. I just want to crash.”

“Alright. When you’re ready,” He said easily. He was making it clear that there was no escaping. He’d let it go without saying anything throughout the week but now that they were acknowledging this, Sam wasn’t going to be able to avoid it.

Dean got up and started to pull down the covers on the bed. The light of the night lamp cast soft shadows across his back as the fabric of his robe moved with him.

Sam had not moved from his spot yet. Just observing his brother. It was so strange. They had shared a room for the majority of their lives. When they traveled with dad, or when they ran out of money they’d even shared beds occasionally. Heck they’d shared a motel room only a few weeks ago, yet this felt... intimate. Maybe because the room was so clearly Dean’s. It was his space. It felt like he was invading it somehow and this made him feel slightly uncomfortable.

Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, Sam shrugged and moved to sit on the couch.

“Take the bed Sammy. I’ll take the couch.”

“No Dean. It’s fine,” his face scrunched up a little.

“Come on dude. You look like you’re about to keel over. Take the bed,” he insisted. “I can survive a night on the couch.”

“I don’t want to put y-”

“Come on princess. You need your beauty sleep,” he cut him off. “Don’t fight me on this.” Dean said straightening up and turning to look at his brother.

Smiling tiredly, Sam got off the couch and moved to the bed. He gave Dean a grateful look and climbed in. He watched as Dean got settled on the couch, pulling the throw rug over his body. His robe hanging off the end of the couch.

“Get some sleep Sammy,” he said.

“Okay,” Sam answered softly. He reached over and turned off the lights before lying back down on his back, the covers tucked under his arms. He stared up at the dark ceiling, thinking.

After several minutes of silence he said, “You knew.”

“Hmm?” Dean mumbled sleepily

“You knew something was wrong.” This time with even more conviction. That look he’d been getting playing over and over in his mind. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He heard rustling on the couch. Dean must have turned to face him. “You’re an adult Sam. I gotta start treating you like one some time right?” he said wryly. “In my mind you will always be my kid brother and that makes it hard to see you as the overgrown man that you are but you _aren’t_ a kid anymore. So I can’t keep treating you like one,” He said this with almost a tinge of deprecation. “I figured you’d come to me when you were ready. Sure took your time about it though. Bitch.”

Chuckling softly, Sam answered him with, “Jerk.”

He turned over onto his stomach and rubbed his face into the pillow, taking a deep breath. It smelled so much like Dean—like home. It was almost like a drug. He could feel himself sinking into the throes of sleep.

“’Night Dean,” he murmured. As he lost consciousness he thought he heard a “’night Sam,” which tucked a smile on his lips.

\---

He woke up to gentle hands shaking him. “Sorry to wake you up brother. You’ve been asleep for fourteen hours. Come eat something and you can go back to sleep.”

“Dean?” he croaked, voice sandpaper rough with sleep.

“Yea buddy,” he whispered. “I was starting to think you were in a coma.”

Sam stretched his aching muscles and let out a long groan. Dean chuckled as he gave him a friendly slap on the back “Atta boy. Come on. Come eat something and if you still want to you can go back to sleep.”

“Alright,” Sam sighed as he flopped over onto his back.

“Meet you in the kitchen.” Already on his way out the door, Dean chuckled again and shook his head.

Taking a deep breath, Sam quickly sat up in bed and immediately regretted it as the world around him started to spin and swirl and his vision dipped in and out. Dropping back down onto the bed again, he moaned at the sharp pains stabbing his skull. He closed his eyes and just breathed for a few seconds. He felt so comfortable where he was but he knew that if he took too long, Dean would come looking for him. He got up again, this time taking it slow.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he propped both hands on his knees and let his neck hang down. He felt so groggy, like his muscles had atrophied. He had to really concentrate to get his limbs to move. He stretched his long arms over his head, reaching for the ceiling and let out this high pitched whine. It was insane how amazing a good stretch could feel.

Smiling at nothing in particular, he got up and trudged down to the kitchen.

“There you are,” Dean exclaimed as he sat at the table. “I can cancel the search party.”

“Sorry. Still feeling a little tired I guess,”

Whatever Dean was about to say died on his lips. He stopped what he was doing and came to stand in front of Sam surprising him. “W-what’s going on.”

“How are you feeling?” Dean ignored him to ask.

“Tired and a little achy. No big deal.” It really wasn’t. He’d felt worse than this more times than he could remember.

“You look like a lobster. I think you have a fever.” Just as Dean put his giant palm against his forehead. “Dude. You’re burning up.” He started pulling out drawers. “We have a thermometer right?”

“Not in the kitchen we don’t,” he snarked. “Seriously. Chill” he said as Dean continued looking through all the drawers.

“You – chill,” he stuttered. Comeback king Dean, ladies and gentlemen. “Actually that’s a good idea.” He poured Sam a cup of cool water. “Drink this.”

Sam drank his water obediently. He _was_ feeling a little patched. He put the glass down and jumped slightly when he noticed that Dean was looking at him – really looking at him.

“What?” he paused. “I’m fine. I promise. Fevers are only really dangerous to kids and immune compromised adults. I’ll just take some Tylenol.”

“You’ll tell me if you feel like you can’t handle it?”

“Yes Dean. I promise.” He said again.

Nodding decisively Dean asked, “feel like you can eat?”

“Yea but not a lot.”

\---

After eating, Dean sent him back to sleep but he was not sure if that meant he could go back to Dean’s room or not. Hesitating outside his brother’s room, he decided to take a detour and went to his own room.

He didn’t think Dean would mind but it wasn’t cool to just assume. Grabbing his towel, he headed down to the showers. That could help bring his temperature down.

Padding into the first stall, he undressed absently as his mind drifted back to his brother. Dean was being unusually nice. Not to say that he didn’t always put Sam first. He did. It’s just that it was bordering on pampering him. When he got like that, Sam found himself regressing into that little boy who basked in his big brothers affections. He didn’t like that about himself because he felt like he lost himself, his identity in Dean.

The lukewarm water poured over his body in a steady flow and he let his head fall forward, his full weight resting on his arms as they propped him up against the wall. He could hear the roar of the water as it beat down on his head, drenching his hair and blurring his vision.

Dean was being patient now but he knew that no matter what he’d said last night, Sam didn’t have long before Dean would be demanding that he start talking.

He didn’t know how to organize his thoughts. How was he going to explain this all to Dean?

Grabbing his soap, he lathered his body perfunctorily.

All of this was exhausting. With a sound of frustration, he quickly rinsed off and turned off the shower. Wrapping the towel low on his hips, he walked the short distance to his room, dried off quickly and got dressed.

All of this left him feeling exhausted. He was starting to get sleepy again. His earlier dilemma resurfaced. He wanted to go to his brother’s room but he wasn’t sure if the invitation was still open.

He waffled back and forth for a short while before chickening out and dropping himself onto his bed. Climbing under the covers, he closed his eyes, determined to sleep.

Several minutes later, he turned over onto his side. A few minutes after that, he turned to his other side. That soon followed with him rolling onto his stomach and finally his back. He laughed this humorless sound and closed his eyes.

Not long ago he was so tired. Now he couldn’t seem to get comfortable. He dragged the fingers of both hands into his damp hair and sighed again.

A soft familiar scent wafted under his nose. He couldn’t quite place it. Frowning, he searched the source and realized that it was coming from him. Bringing his wrist to his nose, he took a deep breath in.

He smelled like _Dean_.

It was subtle but definitely there. He must have accidentally used Dean’s body wash. A deep feeling of longing settled over him.

“This is stupid,” he said. He would go to Dean’s room. He was being ridiculous. It’s not like Dean would get angry at him or anything.

Quickly walking down the hall, he paused outside his brother’s room, ears to the door. It was quiet in there. Dean must be in the garage or something.

He quietly opened the door and peaked in only to freeze. There was Dean lying on the couch back to the door. He had headphones on and was watching a movie on his laptop.

He closed the laptop and turned around when he noticed the light at the door. Taking off his headphones, he smiled at the deer in the headlights look on his brother’s face.

“You forgot to take the Tylenol.” He pointed to the bottle of pills and cup of water on the nightstand.

Sam closed the door when Dean gestured for him to come over. “Feeling any better?”

Shrugging, “about the same.”

“Take your pills and sleep it off. I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

“Alright.” He quickly swallowed down two pills and the entire glass of water and hopped into the bed.

“Get some rest kiddo,” Dean said as he picked up the glass and left the room, closing the door silently behind him.

Sighing contentedly, Sam turned over and hugged the pillow to his face. That familiar scent again, this time stronger and slightly mixed with his own. He had to admit that it appealed a lot. Sighing again, he couldn’t help thinking that he had the best big brother in the world. Maybe it was the fever making him delirious but he felt settled.

All his worrying had been for nothing. Every time. Dean continued to surprise him. How could he care so fully and completely for him? How could he continue to put Sam first so unwaveringly after so many years?

Suddenly he didn’t feel so worried about talking to Dean after all. Maybe it would all work out. His brother would never abandon him. He fell asleep with that thought as his anchor and didn’t have a single nightmare.


	4. (Brother, Let Me Be Your) Shelter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brother - NeedtoBreathe

Sam woke up gently. He could feel himself slowly gaining consciousness. Opening his eyes, he took a relaxed breath. It had been so long since he’d felt so like himself. He didn’t feel tired or drained. The achiness was also gone.

Unfortunately, this meant that his nightmares really could only be fixed by confronting them and to do that he needed to talk to Dean. Any inkling of second thoughts were definitely out of the question.

He wondered what time it was. It felt early. Propping himself on his elbows, he looked around the room and was surprised to see his brother’s form asleep on the couch.

Sitting up fully, Sam swang his legs over the edge of the bed, trying to be as quiet as possible. He didn’t want to wake Dean if he could help it.

He sat there for a few seconds taking inventory of his body and was relieved to find that his earlier assessment was correct. He was completely back to normal or as close to that as to not feel any side effects.

Tip toeing out of the room, he strolled to the bathrooms to relieve himself. He tried not to think about what he knew would have to happen today. When he thought about it, it made him feel shivery. A potent mix of anticipation and fear.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror assessingly before losing focus as his eyes wandered down to the dark depths of the drain.

Could this ruin them? They’d just started to be brothers again. It seemed that for years they just couldn’t seem to connect properly. It felt like finally Dean had forgiven him. It would probably be best to not dredge all this up again. Leave well enough alone as it were.

Maybe if he didn’t remind Dean of all the times he’d betrayed him, Dean would simply forget and Sam could be his little brother again. He’d been operating under that idea for a long time and it seemed to be okay.

Except that it wasn’t. His nightmares made that abundantly clear.

Sighing, he splashed cold water on his face and headed to the kitchen. If they were gonna do this then he wanted a big plate of all Dean’s favourite foods in front of him. It wasn’t a bribe per say but it also wasn’t _not_ a bribe.

\---

He froze as he entered the kitchen. Dean was already sitting at the table, sipping a cup of coffee from the smell of it. He also had a bowl of corn flakes in front of him.

“Morning.” He tipped his cup at Sam in cheers.

Well there went that plan. “Hey Dean,” he said pouring himself a bowl also. “What time is it?”

“Around six am last time I checked.” He said this with his mouth full. Sam rolled his eyes while making a fake disgusted face. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

Spoon hovering half way to his mouth, milking splashing in and around the bowl, Dean paused to look at his brother.

“Really,” Sam hurried to assure. “I feel good.”

“Alright. I believe you man. You definitely look like you could be my brother,” Giving him a cheeky smile, “I have a reputation to protect you know. Can’t have no fuglies related to me,”

Sam threw his spoon at him in annoyance. Dodging the milky utensil, Dean laughed, “I’m kidding. Jeez! Learn to take a joke. And pick that up. I’m not your maid.”

Doing as he was told, Sam picked the spoon up off the floor. “No kidding. I’d never hire such a butch maid.” He placed the dirty spoon in the sink and got another one.

“Dude! Words hurt.”

Sam gave him an incredulous look. Sometimes he couldn’t believe his brother.

“You’re really okay?” Dean asked in a moment of seriousness.

Reclaiming his seat, “Yea. I’m good,” he said softly and focused back on his cereal.

\--

Sam sat on his bed. He hadn’t brought up his nightmares all day and true to his word, Dean hadn’t said a single thing about it. It seemed that he was going to wait for Sam to bring it up. It was night again but it was still early enough.

He knew that he definitely wanted to do this now but it was just a matter of how to approach it. After thinking and thinking, the only thing he could come up with was just to tackle it head on. That was the plan.

Getting up, he went in search of his brother. He walked around the entire bunker but couldn’t find Dean anywhere.

_He must be in his room_ , he thought. It was so early in the evening that he did not even think to look there. Nothing was working in his favour today. For some reason, talking to Dean about this in his room seemed too personal.

Squaring his shoulders, he walked to his brother’s room and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” he heard through the door and with resolve, he entered the room. Again Dean was lying on the couch. It seemed that he had been using the laptop but right now it was shut on the floor.

Closing the door softly, Sam turned to look at Dean only for his eyes to dart around the room when their eyes met.

“So... as you know, I’ve kind of been having nightmares.” He definitely wasn’t looking at Dean as he said that.

“Yes.”

“Alright so I’ve been having them for a while now,” he continued shakily.

“Uh-hmm,” Dean hummed to let him know he was listening.

“They kinda have to do with you.” He paused again for a stretch. “This is kind of hard to do,” he chuckled weakly seating on the bed.

“Alright hold on,” Dean said. “Lay in the bed and turn off the lights.”

“What?” Sam asked confused. That came out of no where. He ran his toes absently on the carpet near the bed.

“Shut up this makes sense. It’ll be like we’re in the Impala. We talk there all the time and it’s always dark.”

Shrugging in agreement, Sam climbed into the bed and turned off the lights. God, he loved Dean’s bed. Just like last night, he pulled the covers up under his arms again and kept his eyes on the ceiling. He didn’t feel even a little tired. In fact he was buzzing with energy.

“So you’ve been having nightmares about me,” Dean prompted.

“Yea,” and he stopped. Taking deep breaths as he remembered.

“Can you tell me?” Dean asked softly. He sounded like he really wanted to know, but he didn’t want to push.

“There were many. Some were down right unbearable but the one that sticks with me the most is the first one. You know?” He absently scratched at the scraggly hair on his chin. “It was about that time Metatron killed you.” This came out as a whisper. As if if he said it softly, that moment wouldn’t exist in reality.

Dean didn’t say anything. Maybe he knew that Sam had to get this out.

“When it happened, I was too far away to do anything but I will always hear that gasp you made. For a while when you were a demon, it played on repeat in my head. That was the sound of my failure.” He clenched his fists into the sheets.

“In the dream, everything happened the same except that when you died, Metatron’s voice whispered to me that it was my fault. You died because of the lies I’d told you and the secrets I’d kept. In the dream, the Mark of Cain doesn’t bring you back. You died and nothing I did could bring you back. All the while Metatron kept saying that it was my fault.”

“Sammy,” Dean sighed sadly. “You have to know that that is not true.”

“That’s what I kept telling myself. It’s just a dream. It’s not true. It wadn’t real,” He shook his head in the darkness, trying to chase away the remnants of the memories unsuccessfully. “But somewhere deep down, I knew that I was lying to myself.”

“Sammy-”

“No Dean,” he cut his brother off. “You think I didn’t fight those words? Over and over I kept denying it and over and over I watched you die in more horrible ways. All the while knowing it was my fault.” This he insisted. “Dream Metatron was me. He was just saying what I was thinking subconsciously and you know what? He was right.”

“You can’t carry all the blame here Sam. We both made mistakes along the way.”

“Yes I can Dean!” he said vehemently, sitting up in the bed.

“Calm down. You’re working yourself up,” Dean sternly chastised him for his efforts.

“Sorry,” he sank back down onto the bed in a huff. “I can prove it. Clearly dream me wanted me to be honest with you in a way that I had never been before.”

The room settled into silence for a moment. “Dean?” he said.

“I’m here Sammy,”

“I know you are. Can I tell you something?”

“Of course you can. You can tell me anything.”

“You can’t make fun of me for this later though alright?”

“Scout’s honour,” he swore.

Ignoring the fact that Dean was never a scout, he continued. “Actually I always wanted to be a hunter like you.”

“No way.” He could hear Dean’s disbelief clearly. He sounded so dumbfounded

A quick burst of laughter escaped him. “Really. There was a time all I wanted to do was hunt. That was around the time I had Sully.”

“Oh yea. I remember that. You were always bugging me to get dad to let you hunt.” He could hear the couch creaking under Dean’s weight and it served to make it more real than just a disembodied voice floating in the darkness. “What happened?” Dean asked.

“Well no matter how hard I tried I wadn’t good enough. I mean I practiced and ran and did everything. Dad wouldn’t let me hunt. It was so unfair you know. When you were my age, he let you do all kinds of things but he wouldn’t let me. He kept treating me like a baby. Come to think of it, that’s kind of when I started hating him.” He paused. “Well not hate really, more that I was angry with him.”

“Hmm,” Dean murmured.

“The angrier I was at him though, the more I looked up to you. You were able to do these amazing things and to me it made you seem invincible. You say you’re batman but to me, you were more like Superman.”

He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “All I wanted was to go out hunting with you. Be like my big brother. But all I kept getting was no. So I started to dislike hunting because it took you away. I felt like I was always alone. You were gone. Dad was gone and anytime I made some friends to fill the void, we’d have to leave.”

“I’m sorry Sammy. I didn’t know.”

“I know Dean. I didn’t tell anyone how I was feeling. I didn’t want you to think I was a baby, like dad did. No matter what, you always treated me like I was smart and like you wanted to hear what I had to say so I wadn’t gonna whine to you like a kid.”

“At the same time, the teachers at all those schools kept saying that I should think about college. I was feeling so stifled by dad that I just wanted to get out, you know?” He rubbed his hands over his face. “I didn’t think that by leaving Dad I’d be leaving you too. So much for being smart huh?

“My first few months at school were so hard. I spent so much time fighting myself. I wanted to call you so badly. We’d left on such a bad note and I was afraid you’d say you hated me. So I stayed away. I didn’t call no matter how much really I wanted to. I even started drinking for a moment there.”

“Sammy...” Dean said sadly.

“I was spiraling so badly,” he continued. “Luckily I met Jessica. She saved me man. I think that’s why it hurt so bad that she died because of me. She was good and pure.” His voice trembled slightly. There would always be an ache in his heart that belonged to Jess.

“I’d been gone for a while when I was finally able to convinced myself that maybe I’d over hyped you in my mind. You couldn’t be as cool as I’d thought. I was just polishing my memories. I was able to stop missing you so much and just accept that I couldn’t really have spent my life riding in the backseat of my dad’s car with you. Most siblings, no matter how close, always ended up going their separate ways and this was just our time to do this. And then you ruined it all when you broke into my apartment. We went on that case together. Remember? The woman in white?”

Dean chuckled as he remembered. His voice rumbled in the dark. It reminded Sam of the Impala somehow.

“You were just as I remembered. Not only that but finally I got what I had always wanted. To go hunting with my big brother. I knew as soon as you dropped me back at my apartment it was gonna be so hard to get back to normal after you left but what could I do? I couldn’t just bail. I had that interview and a devoted girlfriend. She’d done so much for me. But man I wanted to. So badly,” He admitted. He remembered the longing he’d felt as he’d entered his apartment. Before he found Jess.

“We’ve been traveling together off and on now for twelve years Dean and in that time there were some things I had to accept about you. You were fearless. You were always right and even though you were human, supernatural beings were terrified of you.

“What the hell dude,” Dean laughed.

“I’m serious. The first time we met the angels, I was in complete awe but not you. You called them dicks and—and junkless! I couldn’t believe it.”

“During that fight with Micheal and Lucifer in Stull Cemetery, you just walked up to him all, ‘Hey we need to talk,’” at this his voice dipped in imitation of Dean. “It was like he didn’t even matter. You basically dismissed him. The biggest baddest being in our world. Same deal with God and Amara and so many powerful supernaturals. You’re fearless.”

“I definitely feel fear Sammy.” Dean admitted.

“You do a good job of hiding it. You always seem so unfazed. I wanted to be _strong_ like that too. You were always coming to my rescue. _I wanted to save you too_. I wanted to do the same thing for you.”

“You do Sammy,” he said with conviction. “You want to know why I can stand up to those things? It’s not because I’m fearless. It’s cause of you. I know that some how you’ll find a way to get us out.”

“Wait. What?”

“It’s true. You always manage to find a way for us to survive. I don’t always agree with your methods but you do.”

“That’s another thing Dean. I look at you and I see a hero and I feel unworthy of the faith you have in me. It’s taken me a long time to accept that in my world there are some truths. Numbers are infinite, God has a sister and my big brother will do anything for me– including die.” He delivered this with such acceptance and certainty. “You don’t know how heavy that last truth is. Because of this, I’ve made you do some truly horrible things. Things that go against who you are as a person.”

“That’s not true. I’ve never done anything I didn’t want to do.”

“You might have done it willingly but it went against who you were. You trusted Ruby because I asked you to, even though everything in you told you not to. You went _back_ to hell to see Lucifer even though again your gut told you not to and you were right. You only went because I insisted.”

Dean was suspiciously quiet as he said this.

“Every decision you’ve made, you made in relation to something I did, said or asked you to do. The mark of Cain.” He was on a roll now. “You only went with Crowley because I said that I would let you die and we should stop being “brothers”. Those words led you to that warehouse with Metatron and your demon self fought against becoming human again because you didn’t want to face what my words meant.”

“You’re thinking of it too deeply.”

“I have to Dean!” he said sharply. “I have to,” again, quietly this time.

“You’re basically Superman and my words have the ability to affect your decisions. So when I keep things from you or you are blindsided or when I ask you to do things that go against your gut. Bad things happen.

“You realize that in this analogy you’re basically saying that you’re Lois Lane right?”

“What? No way. You’re Lois Lane,” he shot back.

“No I’m Superman. You’re a brunette in a pencil skirt,” Dean smirked. Sam knew that he was just trying to defuse the tension in the air and he was grateful.

“My point is that we’re supposed to be partners. You’re supposed to be able to trust me and me you.”

“I do trust you Sam.” Dean’s quiet admission shattered Sam. He hadn’t heard those words in such a long time. They were so filled with sincerity that he couldn’t take them for anything but truth.

“I know, but the problem is that you would die for me and I would die for you but we still willingly keep things from each other. Every time we’ve done this, something bad has happened to one of us, someone we cared about or the world. You say you trust me-”

“I do,” Dean insisted.

“And I trust you too. So why do we still keep things from each other? Why can’t you trust me with what’s in your head? And I know. I know. You don’t like chick flick moments but Dean at this point it’s unlikely that I’ll ever be able to build a life outside of hunting and I don’t want to,” He hurried to add.

“This is what I always wanted when I was a kid and it’s everything I hoped for. But I can’t watch you die again. Especially if it happens because we weren’t able to talk to each other. I want to be able to tell you things without worrying. I want you to tell me when I’m being an idiot or when your gut tells you I’m wrong. Instead of just doing it because you can’t say no to me.”

“Alright listen to me carefully. I’ll always tease you. I’m your brother. It’s kind of in the job description but,” Dean sat up for this. “You will always be able to come to me. No matter what. Whenever you need me I’m always gonna be there. I’ve told you this a million times,” he said exasperatedly. “You some how built me up in your head but Sam I’m just a person. I’m not fearless. I’m not invincible. Most times I jump into these situations crapping my pants. You didn’t hear me the first time I said it so I’ll say it again. I can only go into these things because I know you’re going to come up with an answer. My strategy is to bluff and distract until you get us out.

“You’re not making me do anything. I trust you over my gut any day for the same reason I trust you to have my back. You always come up with out of the box solutions. Things I’d never think of and truth is that a lot of the times our backs _are_ to the wall. Any shot even a long one is better than none and if it doesn’t work, I know you’ll come up with something else. You always do.”

He laughs humourlessly. “You’re separating them but these scenarios are all the same thing. What you’re describing is our everyday lives. When we’re in a tight spot, you come up with a crazy plan and ask me to trust you. Whether that is dealing with a ghost, a deity, trusting Ruby or letting you jump into the hole with Satan. You’re just focusing on the times your plan didn’t work. They’re not different situations.”

“I’ll always bet on you Sam,’ he continued. “Even if your first or second plan fails. Even if the plan is crazy, risky, dangerous or out there I will _always_ bet on you.”

Sam could feel the tell tale prickling of tears fighting their way to the surface. He’d never thought of it that way. All this time he thought that he was steering Dean down a path that he would end up hating him for, when actually Dean was following him truly because he trusted him and knew that no matter what they’d figure it out together.

He coughed, trying to fight back the tears.

“Dude are you crying?”

“No I’m not. Shut up.” He could hear the wobbliness in his voice and coughed again.

“Uh huh. Sure thing Samantha,” Dean teased. They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Each lost in their thoughts.

“I agree with you though about being more open. I’ll try to be better at that Sammy. I’m not promising that I’ll be great at it but I will try.”

“Thank you,” Sam said around a yawn. “I will too.” Suddenly he felt drained.

“Sleep now. We can talk more in the morning.”

“Kay. Night Dean,” he whispered sleepily as he turned over in the bed.

“You too Sam.”


	5. (It's Down To) Me and You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've taken some artistic liberty.
> 
> Dust and Gold - Arrows to Athens

Despite bracing himself for it, Sam was surprised that there was no awkwardness or embarrassment between them. In fact things couldn't have been any smoother and he was grateful for this. To be fair, they hadn't broached the topic again but he wasn't worried.

They weren't _actually_ the type to sit around talking about their feelings all the time.

They'd just had a huge talk _about_ talking more but he knew that Dean would definitely hurt him if he tried to do so _all_ the time. He also knew that if he _did_ need to, he could, judgment free. And that was what mattered.

He stretched distractedly. He was in the library re-reading that book on Mayan gods and sacrificial magics. He hadn't absorbed anything from it the first time he read it a few weeks ago. Something about the whole thing was setting him on edge, like an itch beneath his skin. He couldn’t help feeling this vague sense of urgency buzzing beneath the surface.

The chair scrapped against the floor as his legs pushed against it. He balanced against the hind legs to further the stretch and get his circulation flowing again. He'd been sitting in the same position for hours and his muscles were stiff and protesting.

Pretty soon he'd have to get up to get a drink or something to eat. He hadn't eaten anything since lunch and it was already pushing 8pm. He was pretty sure Dean had told him there were leftovers in the fridge but he'd been too absorbed in what he was doing to pay attention at the time.

He looked at the books on the table again. There was the Mayan book, his notes and a journal from one of the Letter Men. The journal had actually sent him to the Mayan book. The Letter Man, Jonathan had referenced it specifically because it had highlighted the means to kill Mayan gods.

He was pretty sure there was a hunt in there, but he needed to do some more digging.

He picked up his notebook and went over his notes carefully. After a while, the familiarity of his writing caused his eyes to glaze over, allowing his mind to again return to Dean and last night. That had been happening a lot through out the day. Thinking about Dean.

For the twelve plus years that they rode together, he'd felt like he was holding Dean back. It was like everything he did was wrong. So much so that he couldn't understand how Dean could forgive him time and again. Because of this, he'd spent so much of his time trying to make up for his mistakes, trying to do anything that would prove that he was worthy of travelling with Dean.

He'd been so blinded by his crusade that he'd lied to Dean, kept things from him all the while convincing himself that he was doing it all because he had to. It was for Dean.

All along he'd been doing these things to compensate for his feelings of insecurity. When in fact, he never had to prove anything to Dean. He could see the truth of it in hindsight. He was operating under the idea that he was proving his worth but to his brother he'd never needed to do so.

Dean had changed his life so drastically with a few words spoken in the dark of his room.

Shaking his head to clear it, he turned his attention to his work again.

\---

He heard movement in the hallway behind him seconds before Dean rounded the corner. He had his headphones hanging loosely around his neck as he strolled casually into the room. He was holding a plate in one hand and two beer bottles in the other. Nodding, he raised the two bottles slightly in greeting when he noticed that he had Sam's attention.

"Hey," he said as he placed the plate in front of Sam. It was Dean's patented grilled cheese and egg sandwich.

"Hey," Sam replied, picking up one of the triangles and taking a bite. “Thanks,” he said around a mouthful.

Twisting the top off one of the bottles, Dean placed it in front of Sam. He sat down with a sigh, took a long swallow from the other bottle and lounged as comfortably as he could in the hard chair. All the while, Sam looked at him, saying nothing.

"What?" he asked crossing his legs up on the table. He turned away from Sam not expecting an answer and placed the headphones on his head.

Taking another bite out of his sandwich, Sam bowed his head and smiled. No matter what, Dean was always looking out for him. He went back to his books and not long after that, he absently noticed that the second piece of the sandwich was gone.

\---

This was becoming a habit, Sam thought as Dean shook him awake. He'd fallen asleep at the desk while working.

"Hey," Dean croaked. He must have fallen asleep too.

Groaning at the pain in his back, Sam tried to pop his muscles back into place only to grin when he looked up at Dean. He had crease marks branded into his cheeks where he must have fallen asleep on his headphones.

Dean rubbed his neck sorely and muttered, "let's never do that again."

"Sure thing, old man," Sam said, standing up to stretch his limbs. Actually he agreed with Dean. Falling asleep at the table lost its appeal years ago but any chance to get one on his brother he would take.

"You're not far behind me. Keep laughing."

Sam made one of his faces. He figured Dean would know he was not amused from his expression.

Checking the time, he noticed that it was much closer to morning than it was to night and making a choice, he decided to stay up and continue working. He was even more sure now that he had a hunt and time was of the essence.

He said as much to Dean. "Suit yourself. I'm going to catch a couple more hours in an actual bed."

\---

Sam spent most of that day researching. The more he looked into the things referenced in the Letter Man journal, the more sure he was that something was going on.

Off and on through out the day he would see his brother but generally Dean was more gone than he was present.

At regular periods food would appear in front of him and at one point Dean walked by him covered in blood and bits so he figured he was keeping himself busy. He simply raised an eyebrow and went back to what he was doing. It was best not to ask.

The day was starting to wind down when Dean took the seat across from him.

"What's going on Sam?" he asked seriously.

"I think I found us a case?"

"You said earlier but you don't sound sure." He rubbed a tired hand over his face.

"Oh I'm sure there is a case it's just that I'm not sure of... the timing?"

"Let me guess," Dean said wearily. "Another all-nighter?"

Sam made an apologetic face. And winced at the deep groan of resignation his brother let out.

"How can I help." Dean offered even though he looked like he was ready to drop.

"No. I almost got it. I just need to check a few things," already being pulled back to the documents in front of him.

Getting up, Dean gave him a look. “I’d keep you company man, but this chair is uncomfortable.” He tilted his head consideringly. “And this room is freakin' cold. I don't know how you're dealing.”

Pausing, Sam looked at him.

“Or you could finish up the rest of this,” at that he gestured to the laptop and books on the table, “in the room. It’s warm there and the couch is comfy.”

As soon as Dean mentioned the cold, a chill sent goosebumps up and down Sam’s body. It _was_ cold in in the library, especially at night. It’s just that he chose to ignore it.

If given an alternative though, he didn’t have to think hard on it. If the options were to spend time with his brother or not, he’d always choose the former.

“Sure,” he smiled and started gathering his things. Dean hid a look of relief as he helped him.

\---

They were comfortable in the room. Dean was on his bed listening quietly to some movie and Sam was clacking away on his laptop, every now and then he’d move to one of the books spread out around him on the couch. They weren’t really talking but the silence was companionable.

Sam never would have thought that the orange glow of the lamp could feel so warm and inviting. It cast soft light and shadows in the room, giving everything a slight glow.

Dean chuckled softly at something on his screen and that immediately stole Sam’s focus. He sat back for a moment and really looked around. He knew that he was starting to associate this room with home.

When he’d first come to the bunker, he’d not been able to settled into it the way that Dean had. Sam had considered himself homeless for the majority of his life and although they were permanently moved into the bunker, to him it was just another building in a long line. He’d felt this way even recently.

He hadn’t told his brother how he was feeling because to Dean, this place represented something he’d always wanted and he wanted Sam to feel the same way.

There wasn’t a person on this planet who knew him better than Dean and yet he seemed to miss this pretty important thing. Sam had never considered any physical place home, maybe save the Impala. His home had always been with Dean.

It made sense then that this room would start to feel like home to him. It was the room his brother had claimed.

His mind came to attention when he felt eyes on him. He started slightly when he realized that he had been staring at his brother absently.

“Do I have something on my face?” he gestured to his entire head.

“No. I think I’ve figured it out,” Sam deflected. He motioned for Dean to come near.

Pausing his video, Dean hopped off his bed as Sam made room for him.

“So I’ve been going through the Men of Letters books and cataloging them right?” At this Dean nodded. “Well,” Sam continued, “I found a journal belonging to a man by the name of Jonathan Fisher. Fisher was kind of a rebel among the Letter Men. He didn’t want to just observe. He thought that they should be out there helping people with the resources they had.

“He made enough noise about it that his superiors threatened to expel him if he went against their ways. The MOL were all about legacy so he couldn’t afford to get expelled but his conscience wouldn’t let him sit around doing nothing so he’d go through the unsolved cases, figure out how to fix the thing or kill the monster and he’d send one of his hunter friends to work it. Everything he documented is in this journal here.” He picked it up to show Dean.

“He didn’t solve all the cases of course,” he took a quick breath of excitement as he got into it. “No. He may have figured out how to fix the problem but real life is never so simple. Some they were able to solve, some his friend couldn’t find the monster, some they missed the opportunity and so on. The cursed object case you went one was one of his. They couldn’t figure out where it was.”

“I’m guessing you found another hunt that he couldn’t ‘figure out.’”

“Yea. So get this. He thought that there was some kind of Mayan God sacrificing people in El Paso, Texas. His notes showed a rash of missing persons. He tracked it back two cycles and he was pretty sure that it matched the same patterns as the Mayan god of love Yantho.”

“How’s he sure. Seems like a stretch. People go missing in big cities all the time.”

“And that’s what the police said at the time as well. The problem is that there was a Laelia orchid present at the last known location of several of the missing victims and according to the lore, when Yantho accepts a tribute he leaves a Laelia orchid to let others know that person was chosen,” This he said triumphantly. “That’s what tipped Jonathan to the case. Yantho has a twenty year sacrifice cycle.” He picked up a book and opened it to a bookmarked section.

“ _On the twentieth year, twenty offerings would be made to Yantho._ _The worthy would receive Yantho’s mark_ _and the women would be given many seasons of fertility_ ,”

Closing the book he opened up his laptop. “Jonathan sent his hunter friend but he couldn’t figure out how the victims were being chosen or where Yantho was and the year passed.”

“I’m getting the feeling that Jonathan’s hunter buddy wasn’t very good at his job. That cursed scissors was easy to find.” Sighing Dean sat back on the couch, letting his head rest against the back. “Let me guess, the cycle is starting again.”

“Jonathan wrote this in 1938. It’s on a twenty year cycle, so yes. At first I thought that maybe he was reaching, you know, but I’ve been going through missing persons reports in El Paso since 1978, the earliest records I could find,” he explained. |”And like clockwork, on the twentieth year, several missing persons’ reports would mention a strange flower. Because the city is a border town and the flower is native to Mexico the police just attributed it to being an import. I’m guessing that many probably didn’t even bother to note it in their reports.”

“Why would they? They don’t know what’s really out there so they probably thought it was unimportant.”

Sam snuck a glance at his brother and relaxed when he noticed that his eyes were closed. “Right.”

“1978, so the time after that was 1998 and then now this year.”

“There have been fifty seven people reported missing in El Paso over the past two months. Thirty four of them were found safely. Seven of them were not so lucky. Of the sixteen still unaccounted for, two of them had mentions of a strange flower in the reports. Henry Mason, college kid at UTEP and Isabella Louis, a receptionist. Different officers and both mentions of the strange flower were incidental. I’s dotted and T’s crossed kind of thing.”

“So when do we leave?” Dean sat up, suddenly energized. He always got like that for the hunt.

“I’d say day after tomorrow? Still have some things to figure out.”

“Texas huh?” Dean got up and grabbed his phone and laptop. “I’ll find us a room.”

Sam nodded as he went back to organizing his information. Their success hinged on the quality of his work and he prided himself on it. Closing the books, he dropped them gently on the floor and swang his long legs up so he could lay down on the couch. He propped the laptop onto his chest and went about sorting the documents into a workable order.

\---

He woke up when he heard the door open. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d fallen asleep. Lifting his legs, Dean took a seat at the foot of the couch. “Motel’s booked. We can make it there for 5 or 6pm if we leave here at around 5am day after tomorrow.”

Sam hummed his acknowledgement as he rubbed his face into the pillow tiredly. It smelled like Dean a little, he thought.

“Sorry. I’m a little tired. Your couch is way too comfortable.” He made a move to get up but Dean stopped him.

“Then sleep. We can harsh out the details tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Sam sighed.

“Now get your giant paws off me,” he said. Despite his words, he patted Sam’s legs gently before raising them so he could get up.

“Good night Sasquatch.”

“Night Dean.”


	6. On the Road So Far

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story is going to focus on the case for a couple of chapters. I promise it's necessary to get to the [E] rating. Let me know what you think.
> 
> Road So Far - Supernatural Musical (Fan Fiction)

It was early morning and the boys were in the kitchen having a simple breakfast. Sam’s papers and books were scattered all around them in organized chaos.

“There are no connections between the two victims that I can see,” Sam said taking an absent spoonful of his corn flakes. “One was a college kid and the other a receptionist. From what I could tell, they didn’t frequent the same places. I doubt they ever even crossed paths.”

“Hmm,” Dean hummed.

“Luckily we won’t have to wait for more victims to build a pattern. It might be a little more difficult but I think that if we can get some clues from friends and family of the victims twenty years ago maybe we can build a profile.” He distractedly scratched a hand through his slightly tangled hair. He loved this part because he got a thrill from figuring out the puzzle, but he also hated it because it was time consuming and mentally draining.

“What do we know about where our two victims were grabbed?”

“The last time anyone saw the kid was on his way home from some party and Isabella left work and never made it home. Her fiance reported her missing pretty early,” he picked up a paper to verify his facts. “A Luke Jacobson. Apparently she’d called him half an hour before her shift ended and told him she was coming straight home.”

“And the kid?” Dean asked sipping his coffee tiredly. His voice was still gravelly from sleep, although that could just be his normal register. His voice had been dipping constantly for years now. Sam was sure that at this rate, by the time they were fifty he’d not be able to understand a word his brother said.

“No one noticed he was missing until the following night. His parents came to his dorm for a surprised visit but the roommate hadn’t seen him all day and he hadn’t been to any of his classes. Apparently this was worrying enough that they called the police. Kid was a scholarship student and a workaholic.”

“How does the flower come into play in this?” Dean wondered.

“The flower was found in Henry’s dorm room and in Isabella’s car.” Sam paused for a moment. “He was the same age as I was when you came to get me. Twenty two year old kid. At least I knew what was out there.”

“We’ll find him. Both of them,” Dean assured. He wasn’t sure if he’d find them alive but for sure they were going to solve this case. They couldn’t not. “Come on,” he said suddenly. They’d both sunk into a funk and Sam was pulling his lost puppy face again. “What are we up against? Tell me about the monster.”

Sam reached for the Mayan book and opened it in front of him to a bookmarked page. “Says here that Yantho is the god of love. Unlike most cultures’ myths about love gods, the Mayans’ were a little more deadly. Twenty persons would be sacrificed to ensure twenty years of fertility. It doesn’t say how the victims were chosen or how they were sacrificed. We do know that according to their lore, by the end of the year, the twenty victims would have been chosen. Luckily for us the Mayan year is the same length as the Gregorian calendar year so we still have time.”

“How do we kill it?” Dean got up and poured himself more coffee. He topped up Sam’s as well as it was running low.

“Thanks,” Sam looked up briefly before going back to his notes. He took a quick sip of coffee and continued. “This god is easier than most. A gold blade to the heart. At least that’s how a few of the other gods were killed. It mentions the citizens rising up against some of the gods and killing them with crude blades made out of gold. For all we know any sharp object will do it—”

“But it’s better to use confirmed kill methods,” Dean continued. “Well apart from finding the thing, this should be an easy hunt. What’s our cover?”

“I was thinking FBI looking into a possible kidnapping ring? Maybe we were sent to see if fresh eyes can figure out why so many people go missing in El Paso and if its connected to other cases around the country. It’ll give us the chance to look at the other missing persons reports and maybe find another victim of Yantho or at least a pattern.”

“Page and Plant?” Dean asked. When Sam nodded, he got up, all ready to take action. He took both their bowls and giving them a quick rinse, left them in the sink. “I’m going to pack and take Baby into town for a full detailing. I’m not sure how long we’ll be gone or what’ll happen so I want to make sure she’s ready for anything.”

“Hey,” Sam called. Dean was already almost out of the room. “Leave a few sets of suits out. I’ll wash and iron them with mine.”

“Alright. Be back in a few hours,” and he was gone. Only to have his head pop back in a second later. “Don’t forget to call Garth.”

Finishing his coffee, Sam waved him off. They always called Garth with a brief version of their case so that he could have their backs if their FBI cover was blown or if they needed backup. The little guy was surprisingly efficient at managing the unruly hunters.

Sam got up from his seat to put his mug in the sink and decided to wash the bowls Dean had left there. He knew that Dean would do it when he came back but it wouldn’t take him any time. Grabbing his seat again, he went about divvying up the list of witnesses so they could get to work as soon as they got there.

In the corner of his eye he noticed his brother’s mug on the table, full and piping hot. Dean must have been so in a hurry to start that he forgot about the cup he’d poured. Sam smiled to himself and pulled the mug closer to him. Going back to his task, he took a sip from the steaming cup. He could swear that it tasted better than the one he’d had.

\--

The day went by fast. The day before they left for a hunt always went by fast. They had so many things to do to make sure that they were ready and after so many years of it, they had it down to a science.

Dean came back later in the day after getting the car ready. He then got their weapons out and started to inventory the things that they would need. When it came to their survival, Dean was a man of focus. He would become absorbed in the task of sharpening their blades and cleaning out their guns and without fail, every night before they left for a hunt, he’d pull them out on the table and work them for hours.

It was so familiar to him that he could do it without looking, muscle memory. His ritual.

Sam knew not to try to help. It’s not that he couldn’t clean and calibrate a gun or sharpen a blade. It’s that Dean needed to know with certainty that every single weapon in his arsenal had been inspected and verified by him or he would be distracted on the hunt, so Sam let him and trusted the quality of their weapons to him.

He made them burgers for dinner while Dean worked on the weapons and they hashed out the finer details of their cover story and the plan.

That night, for the first time in days, Sam went to sleep in his room. He was anxious the entire time that he’d have another nightmare but he couldn’t keep hijacking his brother’s room indefinitely. He might wear out his welcome.

Despite his concerns, he was able to fall asleep easily enough and before he knew it, Dean was knocking on his door.

\--

“Hey Sam. Get a move on,” Dean banged on his door. Groaning, Sam blindly reached for his phone. 3:56am. Four minutes before his alarm was supposed to go off. Groaning again, he sat at the edge of the bed, and closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Dean banged on his door again after a moment. “I’m up!” he yelled, seconds before his alarm went off. Turning off the annoying screeching, he counted to five and hoisted his large frame up. He flicked the light switch and looked around the room, lost for a moment. Clearly he wasn’t firing on all cylinders. Absently he scratched his stomach before picking up his bags and walking out the door.

Bypassing the kitchen, he brought his bags to the bottom of the stairs in the war room. He wasn’t surprised to see Dean’s already there. He placed his right next to his brother’s and went in search of sustenance.

Knowing Dean, he’d have them out the door by 5am and they would drive for a while without stopping so his first goal was to get something in his stomach. He padded tiredly into the kitchen and wasn’t surprised to see a simple sandwich and a cup of coffee already waiting there for him.

He sat down to eat. Dean was probably in the shower already. No matter what he said about himself, Dean was remarkably efficient. He was always prepared and didn’t leave anything to chance.

Sam savored the first bite of his sandwich. There was a fluffy egg omelette, bacon, sharp cheddar, tomato and lettuce. Sam’s favorite.

It occurred to him as he ate his breakfast that he felt good – rested. He’d spent the night alone in his room without a single nightmare. Maybe he was cured finally and he could rest easy.

Rushing through the rest of the sandwich, Sam got up, washed his dishes and hurried back to his room. He didn’t have time to be sitting around.

Before long he’d groomed, showered and dressed, opting for comfortable flannel and worn jeans. He’d be sitting all day so he might as well be as comfortable as possible. Throwing on a jacket to combat the winter weather, he turned off the night lamp and left the room.

Dean was already waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. “Ready?” he asked Sam.

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Good,” Dean said, bending over to pick up some of the assorted bags and heading up the stairs. Grabbing the remaining bags, Sam followed him. They turned off the lights at the top of the stairs and walked the short hallway leading out.

Baby was already packed in front of the entrance. They piled their bags in the back before climbing in and taking off down the long dirt road.

\--

They’d been driving for about three hours now. Sam was silently going over the case again to make sure that he didn’t miss anything and Dean was humming along to some classic rock, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

After a moment, “Aren’t you tired of going over that thing Sam? It’s not going to change you know.”

“Yea... but I just don’t wanna miss anything.”

They were silent for a few minutes when Dean rejoined. “Why is this bugging you so much?”

Closing his notes for a second, Sam stared out at the moving scenery. “It feels evil.”

“It’s a monster Sam. Of course it’s evil.”

“That’s not what I mean though. Okay so we chase these monsters around the country right? And I get that they kill people but they operate a certain way. Ghosts seek revenge, werewolves and vampires are driven by their impulses for hearts or blood. But this just feels _wrong_ somehow. Sacrificing people just seems so barbaric. I don’t know. The whole thing just seems... malevolent. We have to stop it.”

He reopened his book and lapsed into silence.

\--

Sam lifted his head when he felt the car start to slow down. They’d stopped a few hours back for some lunch and were making good time so he was confused for a moment until Dean said, “Speed trap ahead.”

Sam nodded. It would suck if they got pulled over for any reason. Their car was filled with enough weapons to get them thrown away for life. They silently toed the line down the road for a few minutes. Not far ahead they noticed the flashing lights of a state trooper’s cruiser. As they drove by, they saw that a Mercedes Benz had been pulled over and was being ticketed. Dean, being the big child that he was laughed obnoxiously for several minutes.

“Serves him right for driving a Nazi car.”

“Wha-” Sam spluttered unbelievably. “Dude you can’t say that!”

“Of course I can. I know Nazi when I see it. I am an expert. After all,” Sam could feel his annoyance rising. He knew what was coming. “I killed Hitler.”

Sam threw his hands up in exasperation. Years later and Dean was still reminding him. It’s like he would look for any excuse to remind anyone who would listen.

After all these years, Sam had learned that it was best to not engage him or he’d be hearing the dreaded phrase for days on end. So saying nothing, he ignored the shit eating grin on his brother’s face and opened his laptop.

\--

“You should watch it with me Sam,” Dean was saying, eyes casually taking in the sweeping landscape. “I mean they talk a lot about forensics and science but there’s a lot of action scenes. You have a thing for serial killers right?”

“I don’t have a thing for serial killers Dean.” It was clear that he had said those words many times before from the tone of his voice. “I just think that it’s interesting.” He didn’t know how he could explain his fascination any better to Dean and really he’d given up. He suspected that Dean understood but just enjoyed bugging him anyway.

“Well you’d like this. I’m telling you man. The female lead is this take no shit bombshell. All fiery and serious and she can kick some serious ass. I’d like to have _one_ night with her,” his eyes glazed over for a moment, making Sam feel uncomfortable.

“Gross Dean. You don’t have to objectify her like that you know.”

“Relax dude,” Dean said, slapping him on the chest. “You know I don’t mean anything by it. I’m sure she has a nice personality.”

“Sure,” Sam mumbled, resting his head against his side of the car. The sun was setting in the sky and if they continued at the rate they were travelling, they’d make it to their destination in a few hours. He’d done all the preparation that he could at this point. All that was left was to get to it.

The interior of the car was silent for a while save for the music playing softly around them.

\--

“Did you have any nightmares last night,” Dean asked at some point.

Sam sat up and shook his head softly. “No. I didn’t,” he whispered into the darkness of the car. “But it was just one night so, who knows...” he trailed off.

“You’re worried you might have more?”

“I’m not sure,” he murmured. “I know that the nightmares came from my fear that something would happen to you because we kept things from each other. I also have this irrational feeling that if I look away for a moment, you might... disappear.” He mumbled the last part, afraid to share it for fear of the repercussions. “Since we talked I haven’t had any nightmares but,” there he paused for a moment. “I keep waiting for them to come and that keeps me on edge. Combine that with the fact that I think I need to know you’re still here, it keeps me tense and anxious before sleeping.” He hoped he was making sense. He didn’t know how to tell Dean that hearing him breathe in his sleep was the best sleeping drug he could ask for so he didn’t say anything else.

Dean was quiet for a few minutes. So long that Sam thought the conversation was over until Dean said, “You can always share my room anytime you want.”

Sam turned to look at him in surprise.

“But we will have to trade on the bed or my memory foam might forget me.”

Caught off guard, Sam let out a burst of laughter.“You’re an idiot.” Secretly he was relieved at the open invitation.

\--

They reached their motel room around the time that Dean had predicted. Trudging into the room with all their stuff, Sam immediately dropped off onto the bed furthest into the room. Dean always took the bed closer to the door.

He groaned tiredly. After so many years, he still felt the ache of a long drive. He rolled over onto his back lazily to see Dean giving him the most judging look possible.

“What?” he said. “I’m tired,” he defended.

“Okay, princess,” Dean teased as he walked to the bathroom. Sitting up, Sam looked around their room. It was painted a lime green pastel color and was smaller than usual with barely any room between the beds and even less room to the door. There was a small table with two chairs and a mini fridge.

‘ _Eh, they’d stayed in worse_ ,’ he thought. Getting up, he rooted through one of his bags looking for a toothbrush. The bathroom door was open so he knew Dean wasn’t doing anything private. He walked in and found his brother already brushing his teeth.

Giving his back to Dean, he quickly peed and washed his hand. He picked up the toothpaste just as his brother was rinsing out his mouth and the brush. Smiling at him through the mirror, Dean patted his back on the way out.

He brushed his teeth while thinking about their plans for tomorrow. He’d have a lot of work to do. He was kind of excited. What truths would he uncover?

Rinsing his mouth when he was done, he decided to take a shower. Knowing Dean, he’d want to go out tonight as it wasn’t late and Sam wanted to wash the drive off him before he went out into public again.

Closing the door, he got undressed and turned on the shower. He could hear his brother moving about in the other room. The bed squeaked, Dean probably sat on it.

When steam started to rise, he pulled the cheap plastic curtain back and stepped into the water. He knew he wouldn’t have long before the water turned cold.

\--

They discussed their plans one last time after Sam stepped out of the shower and as he predicted, Dean dragged him out in search of a bar. Luckily they didn’t have far to go. It was like Dean had a homing beacon for that kind of place because they found a dive not a block away from their motel.

Sam suspected that Dean chose their motel because of its proximity to the bar. Shrugging, he walked into the dimly lit building with Dean, if only to make sure he didn’t over do it.


	7. With You (I'm Alive)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sad Song - We The Kings

They were on their way to the El Paso Police Department where Detective Manuel Arias worked. He was the investigating detective working Isabella Louis’ case. Dean was going over their cover again as he drove across the city. They’d done this thousands of times but still Dean always took it incredibly seriously. He treated it like it was the first time.

Sam dutifully repeated their story back to Dean because he knew it was important him. He knew that they’d already gone over it when they arrived last night and again while they were having a few drinks at that bar, but this was what made their solve rate on cases so high – Dean’s attention to detail.

His mind wandered back to last night. The two of them had found a quiet seat in that bar and just talked and had a few drinks. They didn’t talk about anything major. They discussed the case and let their conversation flow randomly. It had felt good. Maybe they could do it again when this case was over.

Most times Dean was out to get laid so he was barely present. It was nice to have his attention for a change.

\--

Parking the Impala on the street, they walked into the station. “State your business,” The officer at the desk greeted them with barely any emotion or inflection. In sync, they pulled out their fake badges and held it up so he could see.

“Agents Plant and Page, FBI,” Dean said confidently. He watched as the previously bored officer stood up straighter.

“What can I do for Uncle Sam?”

“We’re looking into the disappearance of Isabella Louis. I believe that Detective Arias was the investigating officer?” Sam joined.

“The FBI is interested in the disappearance of one woman? Don’t the guys in Washington have more important things to do?”

“We are not at liberty to discuss the details of our investigation,” Sam answered in an abrupt manner. Immediately the officer’s hackles went up and he looked like he would like nothing more than to stone wall them. Sometimes Sam forgot that they weren’t actually FBI agents. Dean gave him a look that said rein in the douche and turned to the officer.

“Look,” he quickly glanced at the nameplate. “Officer Evans. We just go where they send us. I got a boss like you and I don’t ask questions.” He hoped to get the officer back on their side. He sighed mentally when the man relaxed again. Looking over his shoulders, he called out to a large Hispanic man in a suit. “That’s Detective Arias. He’ll help you.”

\--

They spent over two hours going over the details of Isabella’s disappearance and the few other cases that had landed in that station. Dean was relentless. He wouldn’t let any details go and seeing how driven he was, Detective Arias did everything in his power to help.

They exited the station with a more complete story. Isabella was days away from her wedding when she was captured. At first the detective had thought she might be a runaway bride but there was evidence of force in and around her car. He firmly believed that she was taken against her will. Unfortunately the trail ended not far from the scene and the police had nothing to go on.

Sam and Dean walked briskly to the Impala parked on the street. Their next stop was Isabella’s fiance. The plan was to visit the two most recent victims together and divide the other victims between them to tackle over the next several days.

“So? What do you think?” Dean asked, the Impala roaring aggressively as it took off down the road.

“I don’t know.” He looked out the window and lapsed into silence. Maybe if the police knew about what was really going on in their city they might have found a clue, they would have otherwise dismissed.

\--

They pulled up in front of Luke Jacobson’s house, and got out of the car. Together they walked up the path leading to the porch. The intricate stonework that made the path was being slowly reclaimed by nature. In unison, they climbed the stairs and Dean knocked on the door.

Standing slightly behind his brother, Sam made a face of distaste as he saw the state of Mr Jacobson’s porch. The mail box was filled with flyers and letters and there were several unclaimed newspapers just lying in disarray. The floor was covered in dust and leaves and some of those weeds were starting to take the porch too. It was a pretty nice neighborhood. He was surprised no one had said anything.

After waiting a few moments, they knocked again. Dean tried to discreetly peak into the windows but everything was blocked out by the curtains. Still no answer. They gave each other a look and making sure their surroundings were clear, Sam pulled out his lock pick. Using Dean as a shield, he picked the lock and pushed the door open.

Immediately they were assaulted with the horrible odor of a dead body. Using their jacket to cover their faces, they entered the home.

“Damn it,” Dean said angrily. Luke Jacobson was sitting in a chair in what appeared to be a living room. Pills and and their bottle scattered haphazardly on the floor around him, vomit stains on his face and clothes.

He’d been dead for a while. He looked like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Sam was already calling 911 as Dean looked around the room for clues.

\--

They unlocked their motel room tiredly. “Well that was a shit show,” Dean said in frustration, pulling his tie off. Sam was already grabbing a towel and heading to the bathroom. He could still smell the dead funk on him.

“Tell me about it.”

He shut the bathroom door on his brother’s protesting face. Dean knew the rules. Little brothers always got first showers. Shedding his clothes on the floor carelessly, Sam stepped into the shower before the water even had a chance to warm up. He just wanted the stench gone. Bending so he could get his head under shower-head, he let the water wash the day off him.

After calling the police, they’d exited the home, re-locked the door and stood waiting by the Impala. Not long after, the sirens could be heard as emergency first responders arrived, Detective Arias among them. As Luke Jacobson was wheeled out of his house in a body bag, they’d given their statement, adjusted in their favor.

They’d gone to Mr Jacobson’s house to conduct an interview and noticed the smell through the door and immediately called 911. This, Sam said in his sympathetic, “trust me. I’m harmless” voice.

They were at the crime scene all day helping Detective Arias with his investigation at his request. Apparently their attention to detail earlier that day really struck a cord with him and he was looking at Dean like he knew everything, nodding seriously at anything he said. Sam secretly thought that maybe Detective Arias might want to be an FBI agent himself.

It was clear that Mr Jacobson had committed suicide. But having unfettered access to the crime scene – legally, they searched the house thoroughly. He didn't leave a note, his fridge was full. It hadn’t appeared that he'd left the house in a while. It was like he just stopped caring. The underlying cause seemed to be his missing fiance.

“Think we’ll have better luck tomorrow?” Dean asked, causing Sam to jump as water pelted his hard body. Pulling the curtains back so he could yell at his brother for entering the bathroom when the door was closed, he paused. Dean was not in the bathroom. In fact the door was still firmly shut. _Talk about thin walls_. He could have sworn Dean was right there.

“We better. For the victim’s sake,” he said softly, assuming Dean would hear him.

“Yea,” Dean agreed. “Alright we’ll tackle the kid’s parents and then circle back to Jacobson’s to work on his neighbors. Now hurry up in there. I can taste dead in my mouth.”

\--

One theme was recurring no matter who they talked to. The victim was deeply loved. When they visited the Masons’ hotel, Mr. Mason quietly let them in. His wife was so distraught that she was bed ridden.

They had a difficult time having a child. After losing hope, success came at a time when it should have been impossible. He was their miracle child and his mother doted on him. Mr. Mason was scared of what would happen if their son wasn’t found alive.

Giving him their cards, they asked him to call if he thought of anything new. The boys left the Masons’ with a growing sense of dread which did not lessen after talking to several of Alex Jacobson’s neighbors.

One of them, a Susie Lambert, claimed to be Isabella’s best friend and she was very chatty. She told them of the epic love between Luke and Isabella. How they had fallen in love and were just days away from their Caribbean wedding.

Laughing through tears, she told them how Isabella had been terrified because both she and Luke had to get vaccinated for their trip but Isabella had a deathly, paralyzing fear of needles. She loved Luke so much that she had willingly faced that fear. They both remembered briefly seeing two immunization reports lying on the dresser in Jacobson’s room. They nodded.

Friends and family of victims always wanted to share stories about the victim so they both listened sympathetically.

She told them about her last conversation with Luke. He had said that he felt in his heart that Isabella was dead. It didn’t surprise her that Luke would want to be with his fiance. They were soulmates after all. Her only regret was that she hadn’t thought to get him help. The signs were there and now he was also gone.

They went back to their motel as the sun was setting. Both were in a somber mood and Sam immediately pulled out his laptop. He wanted to go through the list of Laelia victims twenty years ago. He had a hunch that he needed to verify. He needed to see if anyone close to the victim ended up in a similar state to Mrs. Mason or Luke Jacobson.

All monsters had patterns they followed. They always picked their victims because they met some specific criteria. For werewolves, that was having a human heart. For vampires, human blood. Those Christmas deities they fought years ago picked their victims based on who had the Meadowsweet hanging in their home. The same rules would apply to this monster.

This case was becoming more serious than they had originally predicted. The original twenty victims was turning into a bigger list. The others may not have been kidnapped along with the victims but they were casualties nonetheless.

Using that as a guideline, Sam started to sieve through the missing persons reports. They needed to find the pattern.

“I need a beer,” Dean said, drained. “You coming?”

Sam waved him off, “No go ahead.” He had work to do. Where before their confirmed list of victims twenty years ago had been meager, he was now sure that he would be able to find more.

About ten minutes later, the door opened to reveal Dean holding a case of beer. Plopping the case down by the table, he grabbed his laptop and sat opposite Sam. He grabbed two bottles, placed one near Sam and opened one. Taking a long gulp from his bottle, he gave Sam an expectant look. “So what are we looking for?”

“I thought you were going to the bar,” Sam said instead of answering.

“And leave you with all the fun? So?” he asked again.

Shrugging, Sam emailed him a list. “Alright so I’ve emailed you half the list of missing victims that were never found during the cycle twenty years ago. Some of them had the Laelia flower mentioned in their reports, but most didn’t. We’re looking to see if anything similar to the Masons or Jacobson happened to someone close to them after they went missing. It won’t guarantee that that person was chosen by Yantho but it will give us a bigger list of witnesses and possible victims–”

“And we can easier find a pattern,” Dean finished. “Sammy you’re a genius.” Sam blushed and bowed his head to hide it.

\--

The next day, they split up. The list was too big to efficiently tackle together. Dean dropped Sam off at a car rental place and they agreed to regroup later in the day to compare notes.

It was a grueling task but after talking to several persons who knew victims from twenty years ago, Dean finally had a breakthrough, but he had to verify one thing that would cinch it for him.

Knocking on the door of the Masons, he wasn’t surprised that the father answered looking even more worn down.

“Agent Plant?” He asked hopefully.

“I’m sorry to bother you, I just have one question for you.”

Deflating slightly, he invited Dean in and waited. He was slowly losing hope. More and more he was waiting for an officer to come knocking on his door to tell him they found his son’s body.

“Did your son happen to visit a hospital or medical center recently?”

“Yes, about two months ago. He broke his arm around Christmas doing stupid stuff with his friends. His mom and I drove him to Providence Memorial Hospital ourselves. She was so upset, crying and babying him even though he kept telling her he was fine.”

Nodding, Dean said, “That’s all I needed. Thank you for your time,” and made for the door.

“Wait!” Mr Mason called. “What does the hospital have to do with my son?”

“Probably nothing, I just want to make sure that no stone is left unturned,” and he exited their hotel room.

It was just as he thought. That hospital was somehow involved. Several of the victims twenty years ago had visited there in the time leading up to their disappearance. Isabella also got her vaccinations there and Henry got his cast.

Getting into the Impala, he headed to the hospital.

\--

Heading outside the latest witness’ house, Sam sighed in frustration. They weren’t giving him anything. He got inside his rental and checked his phone. He had an assortment of texts from hunters and friends and one missed call from Dean a little over an hour ago. Clicking the voice mail icon, he listened to the message, the icy grip of panic slowly crawling up his spine.

“Sam,” Dean’s familiar voice whispered urgently over the speaker. “Found something. Can’t talk. Text you.” He’d just looked at his messages. He didn’t have a message from Dean.

Feeling panic try to take a hold of him, he quickly flipped back to his text messages to double check. His last message from Dean was when he’d been on the cursed object case. Going to his contact list, he clicked the call button next to his brother’s name. The call went straight to voicemail.

The phone dropped into his lap from his numb fingers as the world seemed to close in around him and pressure built up in his skull. Dean would never wait this long to call him unless something was wrong. His nightmare was coming true. Dean had disappeared.


	8. Brother, Caught In A Crossfire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I've taken some artistic liberty
> 
> Leave me a comment letting me know what you thought.
> 
> Crossfire - Stephen

Mustering his resolve, Sam pulled himself together. He couldn’t let himself be consumed with panic. Every second was precious and could cost Dean his life.

For all he knew, he could be panicking for nothing. Maybe Dean was alright and just forgot to text. It wasn’t like him to forget but everyone slipped up now and then.

Picking up the phone, he checked his messages again just to make sure he hadn’t missed a new one. Nothing had changed. He clicked the call icon next to Dean’s name and again the call went straight to voice mail. His mind and heart were racing and the physiological symptoms of panic were preventing him from fully concentrating.

Stopping everything, he put the phone down, closed his eyes and took several long inhales in before holding and letting them out again. He did this several times until his racing heart started to slow.

_Now think. If this were any other missing person. What would you do to find them?_

Opening his laptop, he logged into the Arc Mobile Network and turned on Dean’s GPS. He waited patiently for the circle to get smaller but it kept ping ponging across the map, expanding and decreasing.

Hitting his head against the headrest, he ran an impatient hand through his hair, gripping tight as he closed his eyes again. The slight pain helped him focus on the present. He was trying to think but all his mind wanted to do was give in to the panic.

The laptop made a sound and he immediately lifted his head to see what it was indicating. He let out a sound of triumph as it finally pinpointed Dean’s phone. Copying the location into his phone, he turned on his navigation app and pulled away from the curb a little faster than was probably safe.

\--

It took over an hour to drive through the rush hour traffic and navigate his way to the outskirts of the city. The further he went, the more desert-like his surroundings became. He reached as far as he could by car but the map was still suggesting further so he parked his vehicle and began his trek through the rocky terrain before him. It appeared that he would have to go about half a mile.

When he finally reached his destination, it took him a while of searching to find the phone, hidden as it were under a pile of rocks. It looked like it’d been thrown.

He had already known Dean wouldn’t be there because there was nothing around for as far as the eye could see. This meant that someone had purposely come out there to dump the phone. Any lingering doubts he may have had that his brother was taken were gone. This act was deliberate, which also meant that Dean would be as far away from here as was possible.

He made a sound of desperation, planning to chuck the phone as far away as he could. He was no closer to finding Dean and the trail was getting cold. In an abortive move, he changed his mind at the last second. Cradling the phone to his chest, he sighed tiredly and started the trek back to his car, tripping over loose rocks on the way.

He sat in the car again and placed the phone in the glove compartment.

“So what now?” he asked no one in particular. The only thing he could do was try to retrace Dean’s steps. The problem was that the list he’d given Dean had over forty names on it and he didn’t know where on the list his brother had started or how he picked the witnesses he was going to interview. He also didn’t know what Dean had found or how he came about this clue.

Did he start at the top of the list? The bottom? Was he going in the order the names appeared? Did he start with the closest witness? Did he pick witnesses based on their proximity to each other for a more efficient drive or did he pick them based on their relation to victims?

When this was over they would definitely have to re-think how they did things. He refused to allow himself the thought that he’d never see Dean again.

By the time he made it back to the motel, it was already dark. He would have to start his search in the morning. A feeling of impotent anger and frustration traveled through him. He was losing precious time. Clenching his shaking hands into fists for a moment, he took another calming breath and entered their motel room.

One thing was for sure, he wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight. He pulled out a copy of Dean’s list and spent the night trying to come up with a pattern to Dean’s method. He knew Dean better than anyone else in the world. If there was ever a time for that to be useful, this was it.

\--

It had been three days now. Three days since he’d lost Dean and Sam could feel hopelessness trying to set in. He didn’t know what to do.

He spent the first two sleepless nights pushing himself tirelessly, constantly worried and unable to eat before he crashed, quite literally. He’d stood up to get something from his bag, last night when his vision dipped alarmingly and his balance tilted sending him to the floor in a twist of limbs.

Giving in, he let himself rest for a couple of hours before he planned to start all over again. He barely had four hours of sleep before he woke up shaking and perspiring from a vicious nightmare. The echoes of it mirroring his reality. Dean was gone. There was no relief in sleep or in wake. He just had to work harder to find him.

\--

Save one old lady, none of the witnesses he’d spoken to over the last day and some since he started his search, had seen his brother and the woman couldn’t remember what they talked about. He’d only managed to connect with twelve persons on the list. Some were at work or just not at home when he got there. It was like everything was conspiring against him.

The eleven others he did connect with, he tried interviewing them anyway to see if he could find the same pattern as his brother but maybe his heart wasn’t in it because they weren’t really giving him anything that could remotely be considered useful.

He found himself sitting in the car going over the list again trying to find a pattern.

Suddenly the guitar riff that was Dean’s ring tone started to go off, somewhat mutely in the glove compartment. The sound doubled when he opened it up. Clearing his throat, he clicked answer. “Agent Page.”

“Oh hello Agent Page. I thought I was calling Agent Plant,” the male voice said confused.

“This is Agent Plant’s number, may I ask who is calling,” he asked abruptly.

“How rude of me. This is Tim. Tim Mason. Your partner visited me three days ago and it’s been bothering me. He asked about the Providence Memorial Hospital in regards to my son. I just want to know if he found any more news.”

A feeling of hope bloomed tentatively within him. A breakthrough, finally. It had to be the missing piece.

“The investigation is still ongoing. I assure you, you will be the first to know as soon as information becomes available.”

After a few more words, he hang up and drove back to his motel room. He broke into the hospital’s database and painstakingly went through several files looking for each Laelia victim and discovered that every single one of them had at some point before their disappearance visited the Providence Memorial Hospital, now called Memorial Campus.

Grabbing his jacket, he left the motel room. If Dean had gone to the hospital then someone had to have seen him.

\--

Walking up to the in-take desk, he flashed his badge at the attendee.

“What can I do for you agent?” The young man said.

“I was hoping to speak to whoever was on shift three nights ago.” He asked with as much authority as he could infuse into his voice.

Before the male nurse could reply, his colleague answered. “We both were. We work three twelve hour shifts 12pm-12am. One night off and then repeat.”

“Great.” He said unable to hide the relief in his voice. “Did you happen to see this man?” He showed them a picture of Dean. “He would have been here maybe about 4:30 to 5pm?”

Taking the picture, the male nurse looked closely at it. “No... he doesn’t look familiar to me,” he shrugged and made to hand the picture back but his colleague grabbed it from his hand.

“Wait Brady. Don’t you remember? He spoke to us about the attending physician for a patient. Lucy was falling all over herself trying to help him,” she added helpfully.

“Oh. Right. Now that you mention it, I do remember him,” he turned to Sam. “Sorry about that. So many people come in here it’s hard to remember all their faces sometimes. If I remember correctly he wanted to see Dr.... Turner.” He went through his files. “Unfortunately Dr. Turner is not in right now.”

“When are they working next?”

“In two days time. Do you want to make an appointment?” He asked helpfully.

“No that’s alright.” He’d just find this Dr. Turner’s home and get them to tell him what his brother wanted. “Thank you for your co-operation.” Things were looking up. He didn’t have time to waste. He still had the hospital database files open. He’d find the doctor’s home address there.

Nodding, Brady stepped away from the main desk.

As Sam was turning to leave, he noticed the frown on the chatty colleague’s face. She was eyeing Brady’s retreating back with this confused look. Pausing, Sam turned back to her. “Hi,” looking at her name tag he said, “Susan. Hi Susan. Is there anything your co-worker missed?”

Walking over to him she gave him a look. “He’s usually really good with names and faces and details. I don’t know how he got it wrong but the other agent did not speak to Dr Turner. He asked to speak to Dr. Holland and she’s in right now.”

Sam’s warning bells were going off. It seemed that nurse Brady was deliberately trying to mislead him. “It’s an easy mistake to make,” he excused kindly. “Can you tell me where Dr. Holland is right now?”

Susan gave him directions and thanking her, he briskly walked down the hall, following the arrows on the floor.

Turning another of many corners, he quickly flattened himself against the wall as he saw Brady being pulled into a room by the forearm. The angry woman in scrubs and a lab coat whispering urgent words before closing the door on the two of them. Something was definitely off there.

Sneaking closer to the room, he listened at the door.

“-tell him about me did you?” She whisper-yelled.

“No I told him it was Dr. Turner and he left. I’m not stupid you know,” he said in a petulant voice.

“Sometimes I wonder. Now head over to Three Woods and get those bodies out of there. I’m trusting you Brady. Don’t mess this up,” she said turning to leave the room.

Sam quickly rushed back to hide behind the corner he had just turned. He could hear her heels clacking away down the hall. Peeking around the corner, he looked to see if he could find Brady but he hadn’t left the room with the doctor.

Rushing to the room, he saw that it was empty and there were two other possible exits. Making a rash decision, he picked one hoping it was the right one. He quickly made several turns without any luck. Brady was gone.

“Damnit!” he swore, startling two nurses walking down the hall.

Following the arrows, he found his way to another exit at the other side of the building. Brady was gone but he knew where he would be. Walking briskly around the building to find his car, he turned another corner and stopped when he saw the Impala parked in the secondary visitor’s parking.

He couldn’t believe it. Walking up to it he opened it with his set of keys. He could actually see his rental while standing besides Baby. He grabbed his laptop, the phones and bag of weapons from the borrowed car and brought them all to the Impala.

Baby would want to be there to save Dean.

He quickly did a search for Three Woods and got nothing. If it did not exist on the internet how was he supposed to find it?

It must be a local nickname for something people didn't use anymore. Pulling out his phone, he grabbed the business card on the dash and made a call.

“Detective Arias. Yes. This is Agent Page. I need your help with something,” he said. Immediately the other man was on alert.

“No, I have a quick question. Have you ever heard of Three Woods,” he asked hopefully.

“You have! Great. Can you tell me what you know.” It seemed that he would get closer to Dean with the detective’s help but Arias wasn’t a detective for nothing. He was already asking questions.

“Yes it has to do with the case. I don’t have time to explain. Just tell me what you know.” He was getting impatient. He knew the detective was a good man who loved his job but he didn’t have time for this. Arias wanted to know if it was urgent enough to need police assistance.

“No. I don’t need any he-” Save him from heroes. This was possibly going to be a monster fight. He didn't need civilians caught in the crossfire. Arias was a stubborn man. He wouldn’t give him the information if Sam didn’t tell him what was going on.

He sighed. “Fine. My partner’s missing and I believe that it has something to do with Three Woods. Now tell me-” Cutting him off, the detective insisted that he would go with him as backup since Sam didn't want police assistance.

“No. I don’t have time to wait. Can you just tell me.” The detective then threatened to head over to Three Woods without him.

In annoyance, Sam gave up his location. “I’m in the parking lot at Memorial Campus. Hurry.”

“Five minutes. Look for a black 67 Chevy Impala.” Sam didn’t have time for this but it seemed like he also didn’t have a choice. Detective Hardass held all the cards.

\--

A sharp rap on the passenger side window let him know the detective had arrived. The large man opened the door and slid into the seat. He plopped his phone on the dash, the Navigation voice already already giving instructions.

“Follow those directions.” The words weren’t even out of his mouth before Sam was already pealing out of the parking lot.

“Fill me in,” the detective said.

“We were looking into victims who had mentions of the Laelia flower-”

“Wait that strange flower was your lead?” he interrupted, incredibly. “I wasn’t even going to include it in my report.”

“We believed that some people in your city were being kidnapped and those flowers were the kidnappers calling card. Unfortunately like you said, not every officer mentioned it in their reports but we noticed that there _were_ several reports with mentions of it so my brother and I thought we’d interview friends and family of the victims to see if there was a pattern on how the victims were chosen.”

“Your brother?” the detective asked. “You mean your partner?”

“Yea... my partner,” he’d have to be more careful with what he said. Exhaustion was making him slip. “We’ve just been in the trenches together for so long that he feels like family.”

Manuel gave him a look but then nodded. “I feel you.”

Sam swerved in and out of traffic smoothly though he was going at speeds over the limit. “There were a lot of witnesses so we decided to split up. He made a connection two days ago.” He played Dean’s message to him.

“He didn’t really leave me anything to go with in that message, so I’ve been searching for him.”

“Why didn’t you call me or the police?”

“Because I know how police procedure works and I knew I could find him faster.”

“The last place he was seen was the Memorial Campus. I went there and one of the employees tried to send me on a false trail so I followed him and overheard a conversation that suggests that my partner and other victims were at Three Woods. But not for long.”

“I’ve been working the case for weeks with no clues and you found victims in three days. The FBI really know what they’re doing.”

Sam didn’t say anything to that.

They were coming up on a decrepit abandoned factory. It was completely out of the city. Turning off his headlights, Sam drove the car at a slowed pace to not alert possible persons in there of his presence.

“You ready for what you might find in there?” he asked the detective.

The man pulled and reloaded his gun to show he meant business.

“Good.” They got out of the car and Sam opened the trunk. He strapped his knife holster with the gold dagger to his thigh to make sure it was in easy reach and raising his gun and flashlight at the ready, the two of them took up standard two man building clearing position with Sam in the lead and made their way inside.

Most of the building was falling apart. Doors hanged off hinges, water dripping constantly somewhere and pieces of scrap and wood were scattered everywhere. It was damp and dark and smelled of mold and rot. The perfect home for a monster.

Manuel was surprisingly quick and efficient for such a large man. They made swift work of most of the rooms on the bottom floor.

At the foot of the staircase leading upstairs they could hear voices and shuffling sounds. Turning to the detective, he indicated for quiet when climbing the shambling staircase. When they made it to the top, he turned to Manuel and directed him to go left and he would go right. Nodding to show he understood, Manuel quickly took off in the direction.

Turning his flashlight off, Sam crept down the hall to where he could hear movement. He snuck a peek into the room and felt dread at the horrible scene unfolding.

An ancient man-like being was hovering over Dean and another young man. He had wrinkled dark skin. His ribs visible under the leathery, dried looking flesh. His hands were longer than a human’s and though his back was bowed with what could only be age, Sam guessed that he was pushing eight or nine feet.

Both Dean and the victim were hanging from ropes, their toes barely touched the ground limply in their unconscious state. Dean had dried blood on his face that looked like it started far up in his hair line.

Brady was dragging the bruised and mangled legs of a woman, her lifeless body contorting in a way that suggested at least some bones were broken. Dr Holland seemed to be chanting some kind of spell. She didn’t quite look as human anymore.

He made eye contact with Arias who was on the other side. He could see that the detective was freaked out but he didn’t have time for “the truth is out there” speech, bursting into the room, he fired several shots at what he assumed was Yantho.

It let out an inhuman screech. Manuel also raced into the room shooting at the doctor, She roared a roar that dislocated her jaw and threw a blue fireball at him. In his periphery he saw the detective go down but he didn’t have time to check on him. Yantho was the priority.

Brady, yelling out a battle cry, was running towards him, with a piece of metal he must have picked up somewhere. Sam fired a shot between his eyes and emptied the rest of his clip into the doctor while running at Yantho.

He grabbed his dagger and just as he was about to sink it into the monster, he was flung against the wall by a gigantic fireball, dropping the blade. He heard it fly across the room but didn’t see where it went.

Grimacing at the pain, he placed a forceful hand against his skull as he tried to sit up. His ears were ringing from the force of the blow and his clothing was burnt. Luckily he was wearing layers.

The doctor walked up to him and placed her heeled foot against his throat. All pretense at being human was gone as her alien-like face distorted and glitched repeatedly.

“You hunters,” she said in a double voice. “Always think you’re better than us. Well die like the vermin you are.”

Sam could see Yantho feeding on his unconscious brother as his vision wobbled.

 _Not like this_ , he thought as he tried to push her feet off his windpipe.

Suddenly both Yantho and the doctor exploded into dust. Manuel limped over to Sam, holding the gold dagger, his shoulder bloodied.

Giving him a hand, the detective pulled him to his feet with a grunt. They both immediately rushed to the tied up men. Sam to his brother and Manuel to the stranger. The stranger groaned a little as Manuel cut his bindings and laid down tiredly on the floor.

“Dean!” Sam said urgently, “Hey! Hey!” he grabbed the dagger from Manuel, cut him down and they both laid him on the ground. “Dean!” he called again. Dean wasn’t breathing. “No-no-no-no-no!” he cried helplessly. “Dean!” his voice cracked.

Pushing him roughly out of the way, Manuel quickly pressed his ears to Dean’s chest and started to perform chest compressions.

Undeterred, Sam just came rushing back to his brother’s side. “Hey! Wake up Dean!” He shouted as he grabbed his face.

“...9, 10, 11, 12, 13...” Manuel was busy counting, adrenaline numbing the pain in his shoulder. He was not going to let this man die. The large man next to him seemed to lose all his cool as he begged his unconscious... partner? to wake up.

“Come on, wake up brother,” Sam begged. He was starting to lose hope. Manuel had administered rescue breaths through three cycles already and still Dean was unresponsive. He could feel the tears starting to prickle his eyes. “Please wake up,” he said, broken.

“Come on!” Manuel yelled as he started counting again. With a giant gasp, Dean shot up, his eyes wide open and confused, before sagging back down, only to be caught by Sam. “Hey! Hey! You’re all right,” he said as Dean continued gasped for breath, leaning against him. Body trembling, Sam sat on the floor, Dean between his legs. He wrapped an arm around his brother’s chest while resting his other hand on his bent head.

“I got you. You’re alright.”


	9. Say Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's pretend that Dean doesn't have to go to the hospital after CPR. Remember the episode with the Grenade Launcher? He's leg was messed up but two episodes later he was all better so I figure chest compressions are nothing for him.
> 
> Also leave me a comment telling me what you thought of this chapter. Took me literally all day to get it to kind of what I wanted it to sound like.
> 
> Say Something - A Great Big World / Christina Aguilera

They were back at their motel room and no one was talking. Dean sat at the tiny table, knocking back cheap whiskey like it was water and Sam sat on Dean’s bed casting furtive glances at his brother, as subtly as he could.

They’d left Three Woods a little under an hour ago but it still hadn’t sunk in yet that they’d survived another one.

“De-”

“Not now, Sam,” Dean interrupted. Since they’d hobbled their way to the Impala and made it to the motel, Dean had barely glanced in Sam’s direction. His quiet was making Sam feel uneasy, tense.

Getting up, his brother walked into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. Before long, Sam heard the shower turn on.

Making a hurt, lost sound, Sam continued to stare at the closed door for a while. It felt so final, like Dean has physically shut him out as well as symbolically.

Only a few days ago they’d been so close, practically living in each other’s space. How could a few days create such a chasm between them. He wanted to be near his brother again.

\--

After killing the monster and saving Dean, Detective Arias had gone to the other victim, Henry Mason. The missing college kid. He made sure the boy was okay and turned to Sam and Dean.

“You’re not FBI. Are you?” he said resigned, favoring his shoulder.

Sam shook his head.

“What was that – that thing?” the detective asked almost like he couldn’t believe it was real.

“A monster,” Sam said fiercely. After a moment,“why aren’t you freaking out?”

“My family was from Mexico originally. There are a lot of unexplained things there. None I’ve ever seen but I grew up hearing impossible stories so...” he shrugged. Gesturing to Dean, “How is he?”

“We’ll be okay. We’ve faced worse.” Dean was leaning forward on his own power at this point but Sam wanted nothing more than to let Dean know that he could depend on him.

Shrugging again, the detective looked around at the pile of ash, the dead woman who he was betting was Isabella and the man with the bullet in his skull. “How the hell am I gonna explain all this?”

“Nurse Brady here kidnapped Isabella and Henry, you found evidence that the victims all went to the same hospital shortly before disappearing. When you questioned him he seemed suspicious so you followed him here and you saw this. You killed him and saved Henry. You suspect that he also killed more victims but you don’t know where he stashed the bodies.”

“Wait you think there are more victims?”

Dean hadn’t said anything this whole time and Sam was getting worried that something was wrong with him. He was clearly awake from his whizzing breath but he was silent.

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. He reached for Dean to help him to his feet only to pause briefly when Dean flinched slightly away from his touch. Shaking it off, he placed Dean’s arm over his shoulder and hefted him up, supporting his brother’s full weight.

“I don’t mean to run but you got this right?”

“Yea,” the detective said. He was already pulling out his phone to make the call.

“Uh... what are you going to say about us?”

“Never saw you,” he answered. “I have a feeling I don’t want to look too deep into who you really are,” before he turned his attention to the phone. “Detective Arias, Badge number 2845...”

\--

Sam came back to himself when the door opened and Dean stepped out in a towel. He had a few purple bruises on his chest but otherwise he looked fine.

Getting up, Sam walked into the steamy washroom and stared at his reflection in the mirror. The bathroom smelled so strongly of Dean that he felt closer to him there than with the actual flesh and blood man who was blocking him out right now. He came to himself when he heard the front door open and close.

Dean probably ran out of whiskey and went to search for more.

Something had happened to Dean in those three days and he was falling back on bad habits. Whatever it was, they would have to talk about it but for now Dean needed time to process. That much he understood.

He removed his soiled and burnt clothes and let the lukewarm water wash away three days worth of fear and worry.

\--

He sat at the desk waiting for Dean to come back for over two hours. It was almost 9pm and he was worried about his brother’s mental state. Truthfully, he would have felt better at having Dean in his line of sight constantly, but he knew that if he tried that, Dean would just react badly. The problem was that he’d just been held hostage only a few hours ago. He’d disappeared for three days when Sam wasn’t looking. Who’s to say it couldn’t happen again?

Making a decision, he grabbed his jacket and went looking for Dean. His best guess was that he was at the bar a few blocks away.

\--

Walking into the dive, he spotted Dean right away. He had a gorgeous, busty brunette draped over him. She was laughing at everything Dean was saying. He could tell that his brother already had a few more drinks by the dopey grin on his face.

He sighed and walked over to him.

“Dean,” he said, tapping his brother on the shoulder.

“Sammy!” Dean exclaimed. “Come join us, brother.”

The woman smiled but Sam could see that it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Clearly she wanted Dean to herself.

“No. I think you’ve had enough.” He made to grab him but Dean knocked his hand away.

“Why you have to be such a buzz kill. Relax. Sit. Have a drink,” Dean motioned to the bartender.

“I don’t want a drink and you _shouldn’t_ be drinking right now. You almost died tonight,” he hissed quietly.

“All the more reason to celebrate.”

“Dean,” he pleaded.

“He doesn’t want to go with you,” the woman said. “Leave him alone.”

Ignoring her, he said again, “Dean. Come on. Let’s go.”

Taking the new drink he got and downing it, Dean gave him a dismissive look.

“Fine,” Sam decided, turning to leave. Why was Dean acting like such a child. Why did he have to always be the responsible one. Dean almost died tonight. He should be resting, recuperating. Instead he was in this seedy place letting that strange woman wrap herself around him. Well he was done. Dean could do whatever he damned well wanted.

“Where you going Sammy?”

“Anywhere but here,” he shot angrily over his shoulder.

Storming out of the bar felt good and cathartic but as soon as he got outside, he regretted saying the words.

He didn’t mean it. Dean could be an idiot sometimes but Sam always wanted to be near him. Sighing in resignation as all the anger drained out of him, he went back to the room. Dean would come back when he was ready. Besides, he could tell that Dean wasn’t actually drunk. After so many years of hard drinking, it took a lot of alcohol before his brother reached well and truly sloshed. He was just trying to lose himself temporarily. Get outside his own head as it were.

Opening the tiny door, he dropped the keys on the table. He couldn’t blame him. He’d almost died.

 _Dean had almost died tonight_.

The reality of that thought knocked him off his feet. Sinking onto the bed, he started to shake. If not for that phone call from Tim Mason or Detective Manuel’s help, Dean would be dead right now.

He felt bile rise up in his throat and barely made it to the bathroom in time. Heaving over the bowl several times, he moaned in pain as his body shook and his stomach emptied its contents. When he was sure he was done, he flushed the toilet and rinsed his mouth. With barely any strength, he pulled down the cover and just sat there. Lost in thought and waiting for his body to recover.

\--

He didn’t know how long he was in the bathroom for, before he heard the front door open. Dean was back.

He would apologize for his earlier words and ask his brother to talk to him. Everything would be alright again.

Before he even got up off the bowl, he heard a low murmured,“He’s not here. Come on in sweetheart. I can’t wait to get you out of that dress.” This was followed by feminine laughter and the unmistakable sound of passionate kissing.

Sam froze as he heard the front door slam closed.

“I wanted this as soon as I saw you walk into the bar,” the woman moaned breathily.

The headboard slammed into the wall and the bed springs squeaked abruptly. The woman giggled. It sounded like Dean had thrown her onto the bed.

The mattress groaned under what must have been Dean’s added weight.

‘ _Oh shit_ ,’ Sam thought. That was not about to happen while he was in the bathroom. He didn’t know what to do. Should he go outside now? Hide in the bathroom? Wait it out?

His body was frozen in mid-motion.

The bed strings protested again. It sounded like he was _right there_ in the room with them.

“Ohhhh,” the woman moaned at whatever Dean had done and suddenly Sam wasn’t frozen anymore but he definitely couldn’t go out there now. He felt like a deer caught in headlights, unable to make a decision. If he tried to leave now it would just be awkward for everyone and he really didn’t want to leave the bathroom, but if he stayed he’d get to know Dean a little better than he was prepared to.

He heard a slight dropping noise. It sounded like clothing hitting the floor as the woman continued to moan softly. They were moving fast, making the decision for him. He was definitely not going anywhere now.

Dean made this dark chuckle, so similar to his regular one but filled with promise. Covering his ears childishly, Sam, as quietly as he could, crept to the furthest corner of the room. His huge frame tucked into the corner, panicking.

“Open up for me sweetheart,” Dean whispered softly with promise.

Even with his covered ears, Sam could clearly hear Dean. In fact, it felt like his brother’s words were being whispered into his own ears. Pinching his eyes closed as well, he tried to fully block out all sensory input. Maybe if he held his breath long enough, he could pass out and he wouldn’t have to endure this, he thought.

The woman started keening, almost like she was in pain or whatever Dean was doing to her was too much. The sound was filled with tortured pleasure, increasing in volume until she was outright begging him.

“Please, faster,” she moaned.

“Look at you. Coming apart on my fingers alone.”

“Please, please” she kept repeating.

“What do you want sweetheart? Tell me,” he murmured sensually.

“Please,” she sobbed again.

“Tell me exactly what you want,” he demanded.

Sam wasn’t sure what Dean was doing but it was driving his partner crazy.

“I want to come,” she whispered softly, brokenly.

“Good girl,” Dean praised in his deep rumbling voice. It sounded like he was kissing her again. 

The woman sighed appreciatively, almost thankfully, only to let out a sound of frustration. “Don’t stop. Please.”

Sam always knew that Dean had some kinks. There were so many things he’d let slip in conversations over the years, hints at a part of him that made him less than vanilla in the bed room. He was getting proof of a commanding streak, a dominating lover. Another kink to add to the growing list. Dean liked to be in charge in bed.

There was a sound that he couldn’t decipher. Sam hadn’t realized until he was straining forward to catch it that he’d stopped covering his ears and was actively listening. It was like porn, he tried to justify to himself as the first waves of arousal worked their way through him.

“-but,” Dean was saying, “you’re not going to come one second before I’m buried as deep inside you as I can go.”

Sam felt a shiver race up his spine at the visceral image those words conjured.

“I’m going to bring you up so high, by the time I let you come, you’ll feel like you can fly. Now be a good girl and get me wet with that gorgeous mouth of yours.”

Sam could hear scurrying and a sharp noise. _She must be eager_ , he thought. All he could hear for a while was messy slurping.

“How far down can you take me.” He asked before letting out a deep appreciative groan. “Good, go slower and you’ll take more.”

Sam could feel his mouth salivate as he imagined the girl on her knees slowly swallowing his brother’s cock.

“Fuck! That’s perfect. Just like that.” Dean groaned. “I could stay in your mouth all day,” the girl moaned around her mouthful at that like she would love to stay on her knees for him.

"Come up here,” he said. All Sam could hear was movement before the bed squeaked again and more movement. His hands were shaking in his determination not to touch himself. Maybe, it was not having the visuals to go with the obscenity. Maybe, because it was his brother in there and it was so wrong, but he’d never been so aroused in his life. He could feel himself throbbing in his pants.

The girl was starting to moan again. It was this trembling keening sound like she was falling apart.

“Here, Dean said. “Put your legs over my shoulders, It’ll be easier,” before Sam could hear soft slurping sounds.

“ _Oh fuck he’s going down on her_ ,’ he thought. He spread his legs out on the tile floor to help loosen things and free up some room.

“Pleeasee,” she cried desperately. “Don’t stop. Please. So close.”

It sounded like she was writhing on the sheets as she begged him. The bed creaked again and the girl started to fall apart.

“Yes!” she hissed the word on a long drawn out breath, before the familiar and unmistakable rhythmic moving caused the headboard to hit the wall repeatedly. “Yes! Yes! Oh God!” she cried before Dean kissed her through what sounded like a massive orgasm. The bed kept moving and the woman started moaning again.

“Yes! Please! So good!”

Sam sat there through three of her orgasms before he heard Dean let out this deeply pleasured, drawn out groan, so filled with ecstasy and satisfaction that it sent goosebumps racing from his scalp to his toes as they curled on the cold floor of a no tell motel.

 _Well fuck_ , he thought. He now knew what Dean sounded like when he came.

\--

Not long after that, the girl got up and started to leave. She tried to give him her number but Dean smoothly talked her out of it and with a final snap, the door closed behind her.

Sam had a bit of a dilemma. How was he gonna get out of the bathroom? If he left now, Dean would know he’d been in there. Maybe he could just stay there until Dean went to bed, then sneak out. Or he could just stay there for the rest of his life. Seemed reasonable. He literally didn’t think he had the courage to exit the bathroom. Give him a monster any day of the week and he’d face it, but ask him to walk into the room where Dean had just had sex and he was a goddamned coward.

Why didn’t he leave when he’d heard first heard them. Sure it would have been difficult but it would have been better than this. Now there was no way he was going to get out of this without years of teasing. Not to mention the fact that he definitely didn’t think he’d ever be able to look his brother in the eye again without hearing snippets of the porno he just experienced.

So like a coward, Sam just sat there in the bathroom.

It seemed that Dean was going to make the decision for him. His footsteps were coming toward the door. Probably to wash the girl off him. _Shit!_ he hadn’t thought of that. Sam quickly stood, as the door opened.

The two of them froze in this horrible tableau, him in panic and Dean in dawning realization. Getting his wits about him, finally, Sam muscled his way past his brother and quickly left the motel room. The door slamming behind him.

 _Coward_.

 

 


	10. (Hey Brother) Do You Still Believe In One Another

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello All, Thank you for your amazing comments in the last chapter. I'm glad I was able to accurately describe the scene as your comments were perfect.
> 
> A friend of mine also had the same reaction, She said that if she was Sam, she'd wait until they were done and then flush the toilet which was just so hilarious to me because it's such next level don't give a F.
> 
> Anyway Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. It literally took me five days to get it somewhat where I wanted it to be so I really hope I succeeded in properly capturing things.

It was hard to not think of it as running away.

Sam walked aimlessly, taking somewhat remembered turns. Over the few days he'd been in the city, he'd become a little familiar with a few of the streets but overall, he didn't have much of a direction or destination planned.  
  
As he walked, his racing mind kept returning to Dean and his behaviour. How could something like that have happened? Dean had barely made a cursory look into the room before he'd invited his female friend in.  
  
Over the years, there had been sort of an unspoken rule. No women in their motel room. More so for the weapons and monster paraphernalia usually scattered around, than any thing else as it would be very easy to misunderstand but also because their motel room was kind of a sanctuary where they could fully be themselves without the lies that made up their everyday lives.  
  
The only time he could remember any of them breaking that rule was when he'd lost his soul and Dean had been kidnapped by the fairies. Even then, asshole him only did it because he knew that Dean was not going to be there because of the whole kidnapped thing.  
  
It was understood, or so he thought, that the room was a shared space and as a courtesy to the other, it would be treated with respect.  
  
His phone went off in his pocket, the vibration unsettling against his skin.  
  
DEAN, the screen said but he wasn't ready to talk to his brother yet, so he pressed the decline button and re-pocketed the phone.  
  
Keeping his hands in his jacket pocket, he let his long legs take him where they wanted.  
  
He walked for a while and eventually came upon an all night diner. Making a sudden decision, he detoured toward it.  
  
A bell jingled overhead as he entered, causing the few patrons inside to briefly look up. He grabbed a seat close to one of the windows, frowning at the squeaky sound of the red leather and gave the plastic lamented menu a cursory look. His phone went off again.  
  
Pulling it out, he scowled in annoyance as he saw Dean's name again. Clicking the decline button, he smiled up at the approaching waitress and ordered a black coffee.  
  
He looked around more closely as he waited for his drink. It was a quaint, little spot. Familiar and nostalgic even though it was his first visit. Many of these businesses were disappearing across America to make way for the big chains like Biggerson's. It was a shame because they had a certain charm. He and Dean had practically grown up in an assortment of diners and motel rooms so it was sad to see pieces of his past slowly disappear.  
  
Just as he received his order, a text message came in.  
  
**Dean**  
_At least let me know you're alright and not dead somewhere_. [2:16am]  
  
He wavered slightly as he read the message a few times over. Sipping his coffee, he placed the phone on the table, face down. He was doing everything in his power to not think about earlier. It was best to wipe the memory from his mind.  
  
Over the course of several minutes, the presence of his phone became the focal point of his attention. It felt like it had its own gravitational force. The more he tried to ignore it, the more conscious of it he was. Giving in, he picked it up and flicked back to Dean's message.  
  
He started typing only to erase the message before turning off the screen and putting it down again.

An older man entered the cafe and started a conversation with his waitress. She seemed familiar with him as they laughed together.  
  
Losing interest in the pair at the counter, his eyes went back to the phone, keeping it in sight as he drank his coffee. He truly did not know what to say so he didn't say anything for a long time. He just continued to drink his coffee.  
  
Finally he came to a decision. He picked up the phone and quickly sent a message.  
  
**You**  
_I'm fine. Be back soon._ [2:32am]  
  
He got a response almost immediately.  
  
**Dean**  
_OK_ [2:32am]  
  
He hadn't realized how tense his shoulders were until that message. The stiffness drained from his back and he relaxed considerably. At least they could still talk. He didn't know why it felt like there was so much space between them. Why it felt like simple things were now difficult if not impossible for them. It was like they weren't connected anymore.  
  
Sam spent over two hours at the cafe drinking several cups of coffee. By the time he couldn't put off heading back anymore, he was literally vibrating with energy. Luckily he'd walked over two hours to get there so the extra energy would get him back to the motel.  
  
He still had to pack his stuff so they could make the thirteen hour drive home. He was not looking forward to being trapped in the car with his brother for that long. Maybe this once he could just fly home and let Dean drive.  
  
He dismissed the thought immediately. They'd gotten through worse things. In fact, he actually, now that he had had some time to calm down, really _did_ want to talk to Dean. He wanted to know why Dean flinched away from him in that abandoned factory. He wanted to know why Dean needed to fall back on alcohol after a simple monster kidnapping. It certainly wasn't their first. He should have been able to bounce back from that easily enough.  
  
He wanted to know why Dean violated their space so callously after never doing so in thirteen years. He wanted to know why Dean had blocked him out after they promised to talk to each other more...  
  
These thoughts raced through his mind, bouncing around repeatedly and before he knew it he was back at the motel parking lot.  
  
Dean was sort of lounging in the Impala eyes closed. Sam could see his bags, already packed, in the back seat alongside his brother's.  
  
Entering the room, he double checked that everything was cleared and returned his key. He then climbed into the Impala, closing the door and waking Dean.  
  
Dean looked at him for a moment and coming to some decision, started the car and drove off without saying a word.  
  
Now that he was in the car, he did not know how to broach the topic. _Would Dean shut him out again_?  
  
They hadn't been driving more than ten minutes when Dean started the conversation.  
  
"We said we'd be more open with each other, so can we talk?"  
  
Sam, who'd been watching the moving scenery while trying to come up with something to say, relaxed his posture and turned slightly to face his brother.  
  
"I've been an asshole but I've just been trying to figure out what's what."  
  
Frowning at that cryptic sentence, "what does that even mean?" he said slightly bewildered.  
  
"I'm really sorry about earlier," making an embarrassed face. "That should not have happened."  
  
"No kidding,” Sam answered bluntly. “You barely checked to make sure the room was empty." Sam accused, voice filled with reproach. "Where else would I have been the night you almost died? Of course I was waiting for you to come back so we could fix whatever tension was between us."

Dean winced, gripping the steering wheel tightly but he didn't say anything.  
  
"Do you know why I was in the bathroom?" Sam pushed on. "It hit me suddenly. You almost died. If not for two things happening at the right moment. You would have _died_! And I don’t mean like in the past where death didn’t have much weight because I could make some deal to bring you back or-or find a magical cure. You would have died last night if we didn’t get there when we did. I only found a minor clue an hour before and I almost didn’t find you on time. It hit me like a punch to the stomach and I basically had a panic attack. I told you Dean!" He said angrily. "I've been having dreams of you dying for weeks now. Weeks! And then you up and disappeared. I spent two sleepless nights looking for you! Without clues! Knowing time was running out." His hands were visibly shaking now. He saw Dean glance at them fleetingly.  
  
"It's just from caffeine," he excused distractedly. "I haven't slept for a few nights because I couldn't rest knowing every second I wasted could be your last. Yet as soon as I find you, you pull away and do everything in your power to get away from me."  
  
Through all this, Dean still didn't say anything.  
  
"Over the last few days I've had a lot of time to think Dean. Why did I keep feeling that you were going to die? It was like this constant impending sense of doom, but about you. And you know what I realized? It's because I've seen you die _hundreds_ of times. And every time you come back I feel this growing desperation to keep you alive. But you're reckless and you jump into dangerous situations carelessly and thoughtlessly.  
  
“I admire your bravery and willingness to sacrifice. My fearless big brother Dean, but while you can't live without me, I can't live without you more. I've had to live without you for more time than I've been alive. And the time I spent with you I spent watching you die, kill yourself or trying to save you."  
  
He saw the scrunched up look of confusion on Dean's face so he explained matter of factly.  
  
"You sold your soul for me and I spent a year trying to save you and failed. Within that year I spent another year fighting the trickster as he killed you over and over again. And I _am_ sure that he was actually killing you each time. I spent another four months while you were in help trying to save you. I spent centuries in hell being tortured by Lucifer with images of you dying horribly.  
  
“I've watched you try or succeed in killing yourself deliberately so many times. When-when you thought that werewolf killed me. Remember? I asked you about that and you lied. When we were looking for those kids. That time I'm pretty sure you _were_ actually gone. Luckily Billie brought you back. The Mark of Cain when Metatron killed you and the list goes on. So of course I'm having nightmares about you dying. I feel like I value your life more than you do. And I'm always fighting to save it." There he paused to take a breath, fully turning to face his brother.

"You fucked a stranger in our room. I thought we didn't do that. Yea, I got to know a little more about you than I wanted. I'll be embarrassed for a while but I'll get over it.  
  
“The problem I have is the why behind your behaviour because Dean you're spiralling man and I need you to talk to me. Tell me what is going on."  
  
Dean looked shamefaced in the silence after Sam’s rant. "You're right and I'll never be able to tell you how sorry I am for what happened last night. All I can say is I wasn't in my right mind."  
  
"You said something like that before," Sam said. "What does that mean?"  
  
“I guess I should start at the beginning..."  
  
\--

Dean exited the Impala, he'd had to use the secondary visitor's parking because there weren't many free slots in the main and he wasn't going to get his baby scratched up trying to squeeze her into a tight spot.  
  
Buttoning his jacket, he walked around the corner to the Emergency entrance.  
  
\--

"After making the hospital connection, I knew there had to be some thing they all had in common. I still had three flower witnesses so I tackled them but with focus on the hospital." He quickly glanced at Sam before eyeing the road again. Sam was listening.  
  
"The first guy I visited basically belonged on Hoarders he kept everything he’d had from his wife, the victim. Including her doctor’s form. Framed. Along with her clothing in their room exactly the same way she’d left it. I'm telling you. It was creepy. But it helped. Dr. Maria Holland.  
  
“The second woman lost her daughter. She couldn't remember the doctor's name but she remembered a joke the doctor made every time they visited her. Something about a country in Europe. She thought it was strange that a Mexican had a last name of a European country. Her words. A bit racist, but it was the evidence I needed. I looked up the hospital’s directory and found a Dr. Maria Holland on staff so I headed there right away. It made sense that she was the monster. Actually I was hoping I'd just kill her and get back in time to grab a few drinks and leave town.  
  
\--  
  
He entered the cool building and walked to the desk that said Registration. There were two women and a man and he quickly made an assessment as to which one would be more helpful.  
  
One of the women immediately stopped what she was doing and just stared at him as he approached.  
  
_Bingo_ , he thought before pasting on his best smile and reaching for his badge.  
  
"Agent Plant, FBI," showing his badge, he said as an introduction before sticking it back in his jacket pocket. "I am looking for Dr. Holland." His smile became blinding in its wattage.  
  
"Do you have an appointment?" The male, Brady his name tag said, asked.  
  
"I... do not however -"  
  
"Dr. Holland is one of our most requested doctors. It's hard to just see her without an appointment." Brady interrupted.  
  
\--  
  
"No matter what I said, that nurse wouldn't budge. I should have known something was off about him. Luckily the other nurse was not as difficult. She happily sent me to the doctor's office. Apparently the doctor was free at that moment..."  
  
\--  
  
"If you would like to make an appointment I'd be happy to schedule you in." Brady said determinedly. He was not going to budge, which Dean could respect. But he needed that information.  
  
"Normally that would be true but five minutes wouldn't hurt," the nurse who been staring at him said.  
  
"I only need 5 minutes," he agreed, leaning against the desk and winking at her in the way that always got him phone numbers. "you would be helping your country. I can sense that you’re very patriotic," he said to her. _What the hell did that even mean,_ he berated himself slightly.  
  
"Of course agent. Anyway I can help." The way she said this was so dripping with innuendo that her other coworker coughed delicately in embarrassment and Brady pretended to not hear anything.  
  
\--  
  
"I was on my way to the doctor’s office but I saw her entering one of the patient’s rooms on her floor. She was acting suspiciously, so I snuck into the room next door to see if I'd have a chance to take her out. I called you right before. I didn’t want her to hear me. She was doing something to the patient. I was trying to get a better look while sending the texting. Next thing I knew I woke up tied to the ceiling in that abandoned factory.”  
  
\--  
  
Groaning, he came to with a pounding headache. Someone had hit him over the head.  
  
"Son of a bitch," he grunted.  
  
"Hello?" a tentative voice said somewhere to his right.  
  
Swinging around as best he could, mainly struggling and flailing for a bit, he was finally able to turn his body. There as a young man, maybe early twenties, also hanging from the ceiling.  
  
"Henry Mason?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah? How do you know my name?"  
  
"Actually I'm here to rescue you."  
  
He saw the boy look at his bindings questioningly.  
  
"There was a girl here before you. Somewhere behind me. I never saw her but she was always crying... until she stopped," this he said quietly. "I think she's dead and I'm sure they just left her there. I keep thinking there's a dead body behind me.” His voice was filled with horror. “Please. Tell me you have a plan to get us out of here."  
  
Truthfully he had no clue. "Working on it," he lied.  
  
\--

"The kid was scared and I didn't have a plan. You didn't know where I was and I didn't know how I was gonna get out so all I could do was bluff and hope you could find me."  
  
\--  
  
"Whatever your plan is, we gotta hurry. They'll be back soon."  
  
"I'm working on it," he said this time with less optimism as he tried to yank on his bindings unsuccessfully.  
  
"You don't have a plan do you," he said hopelessy.  
  
"Working on it," he promised, trying his best to get free.  
  
"Well well if it isn't mister big bad Hunter." A woman's voice said just before Dr. Holland entered the room, Brady right behind her.

‘ _Shit_ ,’ he thought. He was out of luck lately. ‘ _Well time to bluff my way through this and hope I ca_ _n_ _buy some time for Sam to find me._ ’  
  
"You came all this way for me?" he said with a smirk. "You shouldn't have."   
  
"But you're the guest of honour. Yantho will feast for days on you."  
  
"What the hell lady. Only douchebags refer to themselves in third person."  
  
“Oh, how precious. You think I’m Yantho?” she laughed sinisterly and pointed to a corner almost out of his eye shot. “He is Yantho.”  
  
Clearly she was crazy. There was no one there. He told her as much.  
  
"But you're wrong. He has been here with you the entire time." The malicious glee made her pretty face warp into something evil and cruel.  
  
The corner of the room she pointed to, a mangled pile of rot, junk and metal, slowly slithered and twisted, uncoiling and stretching itself into a human-like form. The entire motion was filled with awful and wrong.  
  
If Dean didn't make it his job to search out monsters, the slowly approaching creature would have scared him shitless. As it were, Henry was making these horrible crying sounds the closer the monster got.  
  
"So what are you then? A groupie?" he said with fake calm, all the while side eyeing the lurching creature.  
  
She huffed in annoyance and offence. "In my day, I was Yantho's most loyal priestess," she stated with a flourish. "I made sure he always had his tributes and as thanks, he granted me immortality."  
  
"What about Beiber over there?" He asked  
  
"A new generation of priests." She dismissed before giving him a thoughtful look. "I know what you're doing. You're trying to get me to tell you our plan. Well it won't matter because you won't be leaving here alive."  
  
"I've gotten out of worse," he tried to communicate a careless shrug, unsuccessfully through his restraints.  
  
"Not this time you won't. Yantho will feed on you until you're filled with despair and loathing.” There was this underlying base in her tone, just almost out of hearing range. It was a tone no human vocal cord could pitch.  
  
"Too late then. I'm already there. You might as well let me and the kid go."  
  
"Keep joking, My master is hungry.”

In the corner the silent figure of Yantho lumbered closer.

\--  
  
"The monster kind of acted like a djinn. It threw me into this fake dream world so seamlessly. I didn’t even see it get near me. All I saw was that as the monster was coming towards me, you burst into the room and killed them all. You rescued us both and called the cops.  
  
I didn’t realize it wasn’t real for days while in that fake world. At first dream-you got annoyed at all kinds of little things. I didn’t think much of it. You’re always a princess and I’m used to it. But it kept getting worse. Like everything I did would upset or anger you. We were constantly arguing until one day it turned physical.  
  
You attacked me and we went our separate ways. I “woke up” tied in the factory after dream-you left and it started again with you rescuing me. That is when I started to realize that something was wrong. But I couldn’t get out and it kept happening. In each cycle dream-you kept getting angrier and angrier with me. The last dream cycle before I woke up for real in that factory, you were choking me,” Sam made a soft sound at that.

“I’m sure I was going to die in the real world with you killing me in the dream. When I first woke up, I thought it was just another cycle. They always started the same way. With you rescuing me and I’d had enough. I didn’t want to play his game anymore."  
  
“How do you know you're not still dreaming then?" Sam challenged. He was especially familiar with waking hallucinations and how real they could feel.  
  
"You know how a dream feels so real when you're in it but when you wake up you start wondering how you thought it made sense? Well he couldn't get you right. I mean at all. And your face when you left that bathroom, let's just say dream Sam could never look at me like that.”  
  
Sam stiffened at the reminder.  
  
"I can't say I'm sorry enough..." Dean trailed off sadly.

"It's just sex. I just never wanted to hear you in the act." After clearing the air, Sam suddenly wasn't as embarrassed about the whole thing anymore. In fact it felt like he had an opportunity to rib his brother.  
  
"I always knew you were a control freak,"  
  
Dean's surprise laugh forced one out of him.  
  
"Shut up," Dean teased, shoving him a little with one hand while maintaining control of the car.  
  
\--  
  
The sleepless nights had finally caught up to him and Sam kept dozing off during the drive but he couldn't seem to sink into a deep sleep no matter how hard he tried. Something would startle him awake or the ride would be too bumpy.  
  
By the time they made it home, he was so ready to drop off. He could feel the weariness in his bones.  
  
Emptying out the Impala took the longest time. They always cleared things out as soon as they got home because Dean did not like clutter in his car if it didn't have to be there but he was just dragging his feet. He stubbornly refused to let Dean do it all. He’d already cleared out the motel. Sam couldn’t leave him with all of this as well.  
  
\--

After several hours of tossing and turning in his bed, he groaned loudly in annoyance. It's like he forgot how to sleep.  
  
Finally giving up, he went to his drawer for the really good painkillers. It would numb some of the residual aches from being slammed against the wall but more importantly it would make him sleep. He didn’t have dreams when he took them so they were a safe bet for getting some rest. The problem was that they were addicting and he didn’t want to go down that road again. But, he reasoned, once in a while couldn’t hurt.  
  
Swaying on his feet with exhaustion, he made a rapid decision and downed double the recommended dose. Just to make sure.  
  
He climbed tiredly into his bed and sighed into the firm pillow. His limbs felt like they were being held down by weights.  
  
Slowly, his eyelids started to drop. He fell asleep with a sense of relief.  
  
\--  
  
He could hear a wounded sound echoing around him.  
  
"Sam! Wake up!"  
  
"Dean?" his voice overflowing with relief. Before he could think about it, he reached out to touch his brother's face.  
  
"You're alright," he sounded surprised even to his own ears.  
  
Slowly his awareness of his surroundings solidified and he came to his senses.  
  
"What's going on?" he asked, sitting up in the bed.  
  
"You were having a nightmare. I could hear you all the way in my room." Dean sat at the edge of the bed. "Are you alright?" The shaft of light emanating from the hallway cast harsh shadows, emphasizing his brother’s features and highlighting his concern starkly.   
  
"I'm fine. Sorry. I'm fine," he said again. "It was just a dream. You can go back to bed. Sorry to wake you."  
  
"You're sure you're okay?" Dean asked, not even a little convinced.  
  
Nodding, "I'm fine." He wanted Dean to leave before he could see how badly he was shaking as residual memories resurfaced.  
  
Turning away from his brother he lay back in the bed. He heard a soft but doubtful "okay," before Dean's retreating steps took him to the door.  
  
The hallway light quickly disappeared with a soft click of the closed door. He tooth a deep trembling breath only to tense when he heard in the darkness, "Liar."  
  
'Dean?" he asked the void.  
  
"Scoot over," Dean answered before lifting the covers and climbing into the bed. Sam said nothing and made room, too surprised. He stared over his shoulder into the darkness at the silhouette of his brother as he made himself comfortable in Sam’s bed.

Lying back down, heart fluttering against his chest, Sam stared widely into the shadows.  
  
"I thought we promised to tell each other the truth Sam," he said settling under the covers, his back to Sam's.  
  
Sam didn't know what to say to that. How was he supposed to explain this?  
  
"You never have to hide from me. Not about anything," Dean said vehemently.  
  
"I know," he whispered in the dark.  
  
After a while, Dean asked softly, encouragingly, "want to tell me about it?"  
  
"I didn't get there in time to save you," Sam said on a rushed breath. "No matter how many times Manuel performed CPR you just w-wouldn’t wake up," his voice cracked reliving the dream.  
  
"You did save me Sammy. I'm right here." He pressed his back to Sam's so he could feel his real solidness. "You got there in time."  
  
Sam's shiver shook the entire bed. "Now sleep. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder:
> 
> This is a Hard E story so if you're not into Sam and Dean having a more explicit relationship, this is a good place to consider the story done.


	11. I Couldn't Help But Ask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturn - Sleeping At Last

Despite the nightmare he’d suffered through last night, Sam woke up feeling surprisingly good. He laid on his stomach, limbs spread out haphazardly and taking over the entire bed. His eyes were still closed, not ready to open them. He was awake but he did not feel like actually getting up yet so he just laid in the bed, hands under his pillow and propping his head up slightly. He felt comfortable where he was. He could feel loose strands of hair tickling his nose but it wasn’t the kind of distraction that needed his immediate attention.

Dean had long since left. His side of the bed was cold by the time Sam decided to utilize the mattress to it’s entirety. He was probably out there cleaning the weapons as he always did when a hunt was over.

Sam didn’t know how Dean was able to bounce back from near death experiences so resiliently. When _he_ was the one in one of these situations, he always fell apart. He scrunched up his nose in distaste as the memory of the night he summoned a crossroad demon while drunk flashed in his mind’s eye. Not his finest moment, and even now over a decade later he was still embarrassed about it.

He turned over lazily and finally opened his eyes. The room was pretty dark as there were no windows. His only source of light, the slow roll of his generic screensaver. He let his eyes sweep over the spot his brother had slept in. Although Dean was no longer there and the cool sheets had no more traces of his warmth, Sam could swear that he could still feel his presence on the rumpled sheets. He ran his fingers over the spot absently, further crumpling the covers.

His mind went back to yesterday. He couldn’t imagine being trapped in a place where Dean continually became more violent towards him. He took for granted just how much Dean focused on him and the thought of not being number one to his brother sent a genuine shiver of fear through him.

Even after the rough patch they’d been through, he had stayed with him after that shattering nightmare. Dean could have left, he could have also ignored whatever sounds he had been making. Instead, ignoring his own discomfort, he’d climbed into Sam’s small bed to reassure him and he was grateful. The kind of lives they lived, while he actually enjoyed, it he wouldn’t be able to survive it without the support he got from Dean.

Even when he literally just survived a life and death situation, Dean was putting him first. His brother seemed incapable of doing otherwise. His behavior after they left the motel made so much more sense. Dean must have felt such resentment to this fake brother who could only grow to hate him enough to try and kill him.

He was just glad that they were able to fix the issues that had resulted from this latest monster mindfuck.

As if summoned, the memory of being in the motel bathroom flashed in his mind and with all his will, he tried to forced it back behind the wall of things he didn’t think about. Although he had joked about the whole thing in the car yesterday, in the light of the new day, he was experiencing some pretty strong delayed embarrassment.

After they'd reconciled it had felt like the whole thing could be easily swept under the rug and forgotten, after all it was not news to him that Dean had sex.His brother was the epitome of a sexual being and he enjoyed and actively sort out sex. Dean also had working parts. They shared a small space for the majority of their lives, so not only had he seen Dean in every state of undress he could. He’d also seen him in several states of excitement, the morning variety being the most notable one.

Maybe it was that despite all this, he’d seen his brother as kind of like a Ken doll. His eyes didn’t register or notice the parts of him that made up an actively sexual male unless they could help him further his agenda of bugging his perfect big brother.

Huffing in annoyance, he wondered why this whole thing was bothering him so much anyway. Maybe because he’d been forced to take Dean out of the protective wrapping of brother and see this completely new side of him. A side that he’d never experienced in all his years. He’d glazed over the fact that for Dean to have hickeys he could make fun of, someone would have to be - He cut off that thought before it went any further and sat up decisively. Yup definitely time to get up.

His muscles were stiff and he kind of still felt a little sluggish from the pills but apart from that, he was fine. Only remnants of the nightmare remained and as soon as he saw Dean again, any ghosts of it would be swept away.

He flicked on the lights and glanced around the room. It was a little messy with his clothing lying around. He vaguely remembered shedding his travel clothing carelessly before dawning a fresh set and going to bed. He wrinkled his nose at the mess and tidied up. He definitely needed to get some laundry done. Maybe he could do Dean’s as well.

It wasn’t normally a strange thing to do both their laundry together. It was just the two of them so why not economize on the effort but to be honest, even though things seemed fine yesterday, he was a little worried that he and Dean might have a little awkwardness between them still because of the whole bathroom/sex thing. Ugh, it sounded like he was thinking about him and Dean having bathroom sex. He tried to imagine bleaching the thought from his mind as he made gagging noises. He stepped outside. His first priority food.

He just had to play it cool. He could do cool.

\--

Sam walked down the two shallow steps into the kitchen, surprised to see Dean sitting at the wooden table, reading. He had a beer bottle near him, half finished.

Looking up at him briefly, Dean mumbled a good morning before going back to his book.

“Morning,” Sam replied. “A little early for that isn’t it?” he nodded towards the bottle.

“Bud Light,” he said, “Less Alcohol. It’s practically good for you.”

“It’s still beer Dean,” Sam scoffed.

“But,” Dean stressed, “less alcohol. Why else would I be drinking this. It tastes like piss water,” The distaste on his face was almost comical. “Besides we have nothing else to drink.”

“There’s water,” Sam argued. He didn’t really care if Dean drank beer in the morning. It would take more than that to really affect him and he’d gotten much better over the last few years but any chance he got to poke and prod at him he would take.

Dean gave him such a betrayed look Sam’s serious face almost cracked. “If it’s a choice between water and this crap, I’ll take the piss.” Putting the book downward on the table to preserve his page, he said “my own brother.”

Sam shook his head and hid his smile as he sat down. He picked up the book and read the title. ‘ _Magic In Japan – Kotodama (Soul of Languages)_ ’ and making sure to mark where Dean had left off, he quickly skimmed through it.

“Some light reading?” stopping on a page that interested him. Unlike what most people believed, Dean was almost as voracious a reader as he was. The only difference was that his brother thought that he had a certain image the world expected him to fill so he deliberately filled it.

Sam was worried that if he continued to do so, eventually Dean would start to believe the lie. Not only was his brother brilliant, he was able to take control of a room or situation almost immediately. A natural leader that others just instinctively trusted and wanted to follow.

“It’s interesting.” He gave Sam an assessing look. “You should read it when I’m done. I think you’ll like it.”

“You think so? Sure.” Sam had not looked up from the page yet. It really seemed like an interesting book but more than that, he was just really happy that they could talk easily again. After a moment, he surrendered the book back to Dean and got up to make himself some breakfast.

“I’ll make you something. Sit,” Dean said, getting up.

“You don’t always have to make me stuff you know. I can feed myself,” he chuckled softly. He didn’t want Dean to think he was rejecting his help. He just wanted him to know that he didn’t always have to.

“I know you can but you had a bit of a rough night so let me do this for you. Besides it’s practically tradition by now for me to feed you.”

There it was again. Dean was always so selfless. He’d almost died yet he prioritized Sam’s nightmares. “I think it’s more likely that dominating streak you have more than tradition. I’m on to you,” he jokingly said the thoughtless comment, immediately catapulting them back to awkward and uncomfortable.

Silence fell over the room. He could tell that Dean was thinking about the motel incident because he was making that same pained face again. Trying to salvage the situation, Sam quickly added, “It’s a good thing you’re so good at it.” _Wait, would Dean get that he meant cooking and not the other stuff_? He started to panic a little, mind floundering and mouth tempted to let loose a barrage of verbal vomit.

“Only good? I could put Gordon Ramsay to shame.” He was either giving Sam a way out of his blunder or pretending not to notice it. He took a deep relieved breath as Dean placed a pan on the stove and started to beat a few eggs in a bowl.

With relief, he hurriedly changed the topic to avoid any more embarrassing slip ups. “I’m doing some laundry in a while. If you need anything washed bring it to the laundry room.”

“Hmm,” Dean said as he made quick work of some scrambled eggs and toast. “What’s the plan for the next little while?”

He rest his chin on his steepled hands as he thought about that. “I think we should take a break.”

“Hmm,” Dean said thoughtfully. Grabbing the stuff he prepared, he placed it in front of his brother, along side a glass of water. Sam looked at the glass incredibly, and then at Dean, shit eating grin spreading across his face.

“Ha ha very funny,” He said and to be a brat he grabbed the glass and drank it all before smirking triumphantly back.

He ate his breakfast in companionable silence while Dean took up his book again and it felt good. He felt good. Dean was here. Safe.

\--

It had been over a day since he showered what with travelling all day yesterday and going straight to bed from exhaustion. He decided to hit the showers before getting to the laundry just so he could feel refreshed again.

He walked into the showers and quickly shed his clothing. He was looking forward to the feeling of the warm water. They really lucked out with the bunker. It had amazing water pressure.

The steady downpour of the water was soothing as steam rose with the rising temperature. Stepping under the flow, he sighed as the temperate stream sluiced down his body. Bending his head under the water, his hair flowed over his face for a second before he ran his fingers through it a few times, pushing it back.

He really hoped Dean would seriously consider taking a mini break. For the first time in years, neither of them were dying, soulless, in hell or some other dimension. Maybe it was selfish but he just wanted to keep Dean somewhere where he wouldn't be jumping in front of the next big bad saying, “Come get me!”

He’d thought of it in passing over the years. Just clicking pause on the world ending but they never realistically could. Now that there wasn’t some vengeful trying to rip the world apart at the seams, they didn’t need to go out and search for crazy. Not only that but there were a lot of hunters out there now. Let them deal with it for a while.

He grabbed his shampoo and lathered his hair, getting in a quick head massage while he was at it. It was a little fruity scented but he actually kind of liked it. Dean had picked it up as a joke but the joke was on him. His mind wandered as he fell into the familiar task of shampooing.

Their last hunt had put too much of a strain on their relationship. He just wanted to focus on strengthening their bonds, making sure they were still good. That fumble in the kitchen was a perfect example. Not being able to tease Dean about something was just wrong and the fact that it created this strain between them was worrying.

He stooped under the spray and shut his eyes as the soapy foam run down his face and body. When his hair was soap free, he reached for his bottle of body wash next to Dean’s but stopped and picked his brother’s instead. He sniffed the bottle and sighed contentedly. He poured a healthy amount onto his washcloth before he began washing his big body.

Maybe there was a reason they were hesitating around each other. Clearly he was still a little caught up on the motel incident. Who could blame him though. It was like a systemic shock. He thought he’d known every thing there was to know about his brother.

He took a deep breath in as Dean’s scent wrapped around him. He knew that women fell all over themselves in his brother’s presence. It had been that way since they were teenagers but he never considered that his brother might actually know what he was doing with those women. He’d been so-so commanding, confident as he told that woman what he wanted her to do and what he’d to her.

Opening his eyes in surprise, he hadn’t even known he’d closed them, he felt horrified that he was actively trying to remember details of the incident. It made him uncomfortable to think of Dean this way so cutting that series of thought off, he quickly rinsed off and left the bathroom.

\--

As he was walking down the hall, he saw his brother.

“Hey Sam. Going on a supply run. Need anything?” Sam mentioned a few things he needed and soon after, Dean was gone. He ambled down to the laundry room with his things, in a fantastic mood. Every time he had a good interaction with his brother, even a brief one, it banished the negative, doubtful voice in his head.

There was a basket filled with clothing waiting for him. Dean had already left his stuff in the room. A combination of textiles like towels and bedsheets, home clothes and suits and streetwear from their last hunt. That pile was smaller than usual.

 _Makes sense_. Dean had spent three days tied up in the same clothing. It’s funny. He didn’t remember Dean smelling badly on the drive back to the motel. That could have been because he was just so relieved to have him back that he didn’t notice.

Sorting everything in workable piles, he decided to work on the textiles first. They didn’t need as much attention as the others. He started piling the items into the washing machine.

The first thing Dean had done when he got back was shower so if there had been any lingering proof of his harrowing three days Sam would never know. Besides, he thought that Dean always smelled good – a combination of his body wash and natural scent. Even when they were out in the muck and mud, sweating and bleeding, he could always pick out Dean’s scent.

He couldn’t quite decipher what it was but it was as familiar to him as his hand. Lifting his brother’s sheets to his face, he took a deep breath, trying to identify the different hints that made up Dean. He truly couldn’t tell. It smelled like home – like _Dean_ , but he couldn’t pick up special hints that reminded him of any other scent he’d smelled in his life. All he knew was that it was a good smell. _I wonder if that girl noticed how good he smelled too_ , he thought.

Pull the sheets away from his face, “What am I doing?” he asked no one in particular. He quickly stuffed the sheets into the machine with the other items. He was standing in their laundry room sniffing his brother’s dirty sheets like a creeper. He turned on the machine and walked away feeling disbelief at himself as water filled the drum.

\--

He lay in his bed that might feeling perplexed. He didn’t know why he was so hang up on what happened in the motel but it just kept flashing through his mind through random periods in the day. So much, that he felt so guilty that he couldn't look his brother in the eye during dinner.

No matter how smooth he kept trying to be, he was pretty sure Dean knew something was up. Sometimes he wished his brother wasn’t so perceptive.

The problem was that he’d finally understood that to get a good night’s rest, he needed to be in Dean’s presence, even if it was just for a little while until his mind finally accepted that Dean was not going anywhere. So although he was now in his room, he knew that he’d be crawling over to his brother soon. He didn’t even know why he kept up the pretense of going to his room. Inevitably, he’d end up in Dean’s if he didn’t want to suffer a night like last night.

Getting up, he decided that he was being ridiculous. He had an open invitation from Dean. He could ask for help, free of judgment, so there was no reason to agonize over it when he would give in anyway.

He quickly walked the short distance to his brother’s room and pausing his hurried pace at the door, he knocked. It was past midnight so he wasn’t sure if Dean was awake or not. “Dean?” he asked softly,

Dean’s voice was gravel rough, as he told Sam to come in, like he’d already been asleep.

He flicked the lamp on when Sam opened the door and frowned in his direction from the sudden harshness of the lights as his eyes tried to adjust.

Sam closed the door behind him softly as he entered the room, pressing his back to said door like even closed, he could still walk through it if needed. “Can I stay here tonight?”

Dean waved a careless hand at the couch in agreement before dropping his head back on the pillow. Sam’s gaze landed on the couch. It was a very comfortable couch, he knew this but he hadn’t realized until that very moment how much he didn’t want to sleep alone. It wasn’t enough anymore to just be in the same room. He, more than anything wanted to climb into that big bed next to his brother.

Turning away from the couch, he looked at Dean helplessly, hoping he could telegraph what he wanted somehow.

With a sleepy, resigned groan, Dean lifted the covers making room for his pain in the ass brother. Sam, not wanting to give him time to change his mind, quickly climbed in as the lights flicked back off. This is exactly what he wanted. He took a deep breath and burrowed into the pillows – pleased.

The sheets and pillows were cool under his skin but they no longer smelled like Dean. It didn’t matter though because the source of his favorite scent was right there.

“Thanks,” he whispered, his back to his brother.

“Sleep,” Dean said tiredly.


	12. Little Do You Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. It was a nightmare to get done.
> 
> Little Do You Know - Alex and Sierra

He suddenly had that feeling of awareness. Of being in that somewhere between awake and still sort of asleep. It felt late... or early depending on one's perspective. His body had that heaviness like he hadn't gotten enough sleep yet.

Clearly something had woken him but he was too tired to try and sort it out. His body wasn't alert so it couldn't have been anything dangerous. Besides, the bunker was warded against every conceivable threat.

He could feel sleep pulling him back under when a small movement jolted him straight out of the nebulous grasps of unconsciousness and smack into fully awake and present. There was a heavy, warm band of an arm across his back, pinning him to the bed.

He must have woken when Dean's arm had snaked around him. It would make sense that something like that would register to his sleeping mind. It was jarring. He'd always been the holder so the foreign touch must have startled him awake.

This made sense. What didn't make sense was his pounding heart. It was thumping almost violently against his ribcage and had been since the moment he understood what was going on. It felt like a panicked creature struggling to get out of his chest.

He lay in the bed completely still as he tried to calm his furiously racing pulse. This was to no avail, the heat from his brother's arm like a brand against his skin.

A short eternity passed in that position before the arm holding on to him tightened a little more. He was hyper-aware of the warm fingers under his body, pressed against his stomach. It felt like he was being seared by their heat.

Trying not to panic, he squeezed his eyes shut. If Dean were to wake up right now, he wanted the excuse of sleep.

Eyes shut, he focused on the heavy thump of his heart in an attempt to cancel out his almost laser awareness of the heat against his skin.

Then, Dean’s hand went even further under Sam, practically enveloping him. Sam stiffened as he tried to stave off the mass of tremors born from the unintended caress against the electrified skin under his brother's palm.

He lay there, tense and rigid, barely daring to draw in a breath. He didn't want to move for fear of waking Dean.

Eventually, he decided to risk it, mainly because his muscles were starting to cramp from holding still for so long. He raised his head as best he could to peer over his shoulder. From what he could see, dark as the room was, Dean was fast asleep on his stomach. One arm under his pillow and the other holding on to Sam. He must have just been seeking the closest warm body.

Sam didn’t even consider trying to remove himself from the situation. Dean would wake up no matter what he did so his only option was to stay where he was. The alternative was unthinkable. If he woke Dean up trying to extricate himself well...

Dean moved again. This time he pulled Sam's body flush against his chest, sending a burst of sparks up and down his spine. He clenched his teeth and held his breath, trying to calm the riot of sensation rushing just under his skin.

This close, he could smell that amazing scent from his brother and it was playing havoc with his senses. Every point of contact between them felt hyper sensitized and he spent several minutes willing the live wire of sparks bursting through his body to calm down.

Any chance he had of escaping was gone, Dean had him well and truly held down. They were pressed close from knee to chest, with Dean’s warm breath stirring the hair on Sam’s neck. He’d never felt so surrounded before.

Slowly, his tense body started to relax as the need for rest returned and the overwhelming sensations dulled. He was lulled into calm by Dean scent and the feeling of being protected. Before he knew it, he was sinking back into sleep from sheer exhaustion, next to his brother.

\--

The next time he woke up, he was alone in the bed. It did not seem like Dean had been there for a while, to his relief. His first thought was on that brief moment during the night when Dean had held him tightly to his chest.

 _What was that?_ He wondered a little alarmed. It had left like being pressed against a low electrical charge. He couldn’t believe that he was even able to fall asleep from the intensity of it. He’d been around Dean all his life. They were basically in each other’s space all the time and that had never happened before. He’d touched Dean many times without that overwhelming rush of static.

Could it have been because they were sharing a bed? But that couldn’t be. They’d shared beds many times before, not in a long while but still it had happened. It wasn’t even the first time Dean had gotten a little grabby in his sleep. It was just that in the past, he’d have simply pushed him away and the sleepy Dean would then turn over.

So why was he so worried all of a sudden about Dean waking up to find them basically spooning? Could it be that he was worried Dean wouldn’t share a bed with him again because of it? It kind of seemed likely. Sam wanted to stay near him but if Dean felt weird about waking up holding on to his kid brother, he might rescind the invitation.

If he felt oddly about it, which he clearly did, imagine how strange Dean would feel. Maybe that was why his body reacted so weirdly last night. He had never had such an intense rush touching someone before and it left him utterly confused. On any given day, he and Dean shared dozens of unconscious touches and nothing strange came of it so it made sense that the problem was the sleeping arrangement. They hadn’t shared a bed in several years and the newness of it made common place touches feel intense.

It had been a good intense though. Like the moment before they jumped into a fight, or when they took down the monster. Dean’s strong body up against him, holding him in the shelter of his chest. It reminded him of when he used to be small and Dean would protect him from nightmares and all the bad things in the world.

His body may have grown, but he still felt like that boy who needed his big brother’s protection sometimes.

Opening his eyes, he looked at the evidence of where Dean had slept. Crumpled sheets and disarrayed pillows. He tried not to think of why he was doing it but he grabbed Dean’s pillow and hugged it to his face, taking in a deep breath. A shudder shook his body, remembering. He closed his eyes and just relished the feeling. If he tried hard enough, it could almost be like Dean was right there again.

He made a frustrated sound and yanked the pillow off his face. What was wrong with him? He didn’t know what was going on in his head.

Groaning, he got up. There was no use wondering about the random paths his thoughts took. He had a busy day ahead of him. He might as well focus on that, instead of the futile circles his mind was running in.

There were so many things he still had to do. He’d spent yesterday dealing with things around the bunker but today he really needed to get to documenting the case they’d just been on.

\--

It was early morning and Sam had taken up residence in the library. He’d woken about an hour earlier and before he’d even finished getting ready for the day, the siren song of an unanswered mystery was already clamouring for his attention.

He was re-reading Jonathan’s journal again. Even though they had already killed the monster, he wanted to make note of everything that had happened and why. He still had some questions.

Monsters usually followed a certain pattern but he still wasn’t quite sure how the victims were chosen. By all accounts, Dr. Holland had been a highly decorated, dedicated and requested doctor. She saw hundreds of patients yearly so why did she pick the ones she did and how did Dean fall into that category? It could be that they only intended to kill him because he found out about their operation. However Yantho had been feeding on him, so he must have qualified some way.

To even get started, Sam needed to figure out what exactly Yantho was. It clearly had not been a god, at least not like any of the deities they’d met. Based on its appearance, dwelling and general behaviour, this had been a monster, but what kind?

There were many similarities between Yantho and the djinns they had encountered in the past and this was the first possibility Sam intended to look into. The djinns they killed before fed on blood or certain emotions.

The one who'd held Dean hostage several years ago had built him a ‘perfect’ fantasy world, everything he'd thought he wanted, while it fed on him.

The one Charlie had encountered built her a nightmare world as it fed on her fear.

Maybe Yantho was yet another kind of djinn. But that couldn't be right. Jonathan had said it was the Mayan God of love. But it created a world where someone who cared about Dean kept hurting him. It would had made more sense to create a fantasy love world.

Distractedly, he ran his hands through his hair, pushing the long strands away from his face only for them to fall right back where they were. He opened the book on Mayan gods again and flipped back to the page on Yantho.

_'On the twentieth year, twenty offerings would be made to Yantho. The worthy would receive Yantho’s mark and the women would be given many seasons of fertility._

_This creature would pick its victims from among its worshipers and leave a flower at the scene, the Laelia orchid, believed to be the aforementioned mark. This flower was native to the region and especially grew in abundance near the creature’s dwelling._

_The worshipers would revel and celebrate around the victims, save those closest to said victims. Their family and loved ones, bereaved over the deaths of their cherished person, would mourn and ache and wither away to nothing.'_

He flipped over to the other gods and the story was the same. There however, were no mentions of what actually happened to the victims during their moments in the monster’s grasps so he had no way of knowing if they too saw a dream world. What was noted was that several of the other gods were killed by families of their victims. So either Yantho had been headed on the same route and something changed its fate or it was a different type of monster.

Making a frustrated noise, Sam went over to the chapter on Yantho again. It just didn’t add up. It couldn't be a different type monster because it died from the same method as the other ‘gods’. He thought on this a little longer. It could also be that it was a different monster who could be killed by a gold dagger similar to how several monsters were affected by silver or iron. It could even be that any sharp object could have worked or maybe it was stabbing a vital organ that did him in.

He swept a hand through his hair again as he thought on this, pulling slightly to feel a little pain. The pain helped his racing mind find focus.

He hadn't seen how the monster died so he didn't know where Manuel had stabbed it. The answer to this would help him answer many of the questions he had.

He also needed to know if Dean was the only one who'd had the dreams.

The possibility remained that Yantho was a subspecies of djinn except that djinn were killed with silver daggers dipped in lamb’s blood. Could it then be a case of the silver dagger/lamb’s blood being unnecessary? Maybe a djinn had been accidentally killed with a silver blade with lamb’s blood on it and the tradition got passed on.

Unfortunately they had not encountered many djinns so he couldn’t be sure if the species had many variants or if the three different types they had encountered were the only types out there. That would tell him whether or not Yantho and the similar Mayan gods were subsets of djinn or if they were just remarkably similar.

He sat back in the chair, eyes closed and let his head hang over the chair’s back. This helped relieve the stiffness in his back and his butt from sitting in one spot for an extended period of time. Rubbing his hand over his neck, he could feel how tight the tendons were. He took a deep breath and focused on the myriad of warm colors playing through his closed lids.

He definitely needed to know more about djinn. He’d need to find all the books they had on the subject and on any other creature similar. He got up and started scanning files and books, pulling out anything that seemed like it might be relevant. By the time he was done, he had nine books piled on the desk.

He looked at them all and nodding, picked one up. It was a lot of books but they might not all be as useful as they appeared on first glance. He just didn’t want to miss anything.

-

Three hours went by before he was able to pull himself away from the information in front of him. By that time, both tables in the library were perfectly lined with open books, organized and ordered notes and his laptop. Every page was in a precise, straight row, taped to the table’s surface in a way that made it easy to understand how they related to the books and pages around. Of the nine books he’d initially picked, five had relevant information. He also had Jonathan Fisher’s journal and the original Mayan book opened for reference.

It was as he initially thought. He needed to speak to Manuel about the kill method. He also needed to speak to Henry about the monster. From what Dean had said, he was guessing the kid didn’t know much but that might not be the case.

Taking his seat, he pulled out his phone and dialed the number. After two rings, it connected. “Arias. Hold for a moment.”

Sam frowned at the phone as he heard shuffling, muffled voices and then abrupt dampening as a door closed.

“You’re a brave man calling me right now Agent Page. Or should I say Sam Winchester.” The gruff voice said over the phone.

“You know who I am,” Sam said with caution. Would the detective make things hard for him now that he knew who he was?

“I’m a detective. Pulled your prints off of your rental.”

“Ah. So you probably saw some stuff-”

“Yea. You could say that. Like you’ve been dead for a while now.”

“About that...” He paused. He’d given this speech so many times, that he didn’t know where to start anymore.

“Way I figure. Things aren’t always black and white. I know this for sure in my line of work and especially after meeting you and your brother. World’s bigger than I used to think you know, so I looked at your rap sheet and did some digging. Let’s just say some things are starting to make sense.”

“You’ve been busy,” Sam absently scratched his hands through his hair. They’d left El Paso only a little over two days ago.

“Yea, well I have nothing better to do. I got suspended.”

 _Well shit, he’s definitely not going to want to help now_ , Sam thought. “Look man...” he began.

“No no!” Manuel hurried to add. “The suspension is more like a slap on the wrist. I’m getting a commendation and promoted to Lieutenant. They found dozens of bodies buried around Three Woods. Some buried for decades. Dr Holland owned the land and they linked her to several of the victims. Of course they don’t know that she exploded in a pile of dust so there’s a national warrant out for her.”

“Ahh...” Sam said. He’d guess that she had even more bodies stashed away at other sites that they would never find.

“Chief only suspended me because I went after a suspect without informing anyone. They don’t know that I did have back up so I got all the credit for the find and they’re calling me a hero.” He said this in a tone that suggested that he didn’t agree.

“Good. Take it. If you hadn’t insisted on coming, things would have ended very differently. You saved my brother’s life.” There, Sam paused. “I’m actually calling about that. I needed to know how you killed Yantho.”

“Yantho huh?” Manuel said thoughtfully. “That bitch threw me across the room and you were rushing the monster. I was on the ground for a short while. I think I black out for like a second but the gunshots woke me up and the next thing I saw, you were flying into the wall. You dropped the weapon and it fell near me.” He recited excitedly. “I grabbed it and snuck up to the monster. It was busy doing something to your brother so I stuck the blade in its back and forced it as far up as I could. Then I severed its spinal cord and the monster and the doctor just... exploded.”

Sam was busy writing all this down. “Would you say it was already dying while you were stabbing it or do you think destroying its spinal cord did the trick?”

“I was moving fast. I didn’t want the doctor to notice me or kill you and I could see... Dean?” he waited for Sam to confirm before continuing. “Dean kind of fading so I don’t think I even took five seconds but if I had to say, I’d say as soon as I sliced through the spine it exploded.”

“Did it react at all to the first penetrative stab and dragging blade?”

“It was too busy with your brother to notice.”

“Do you remember where along the back you started, how far up you reach, the approximate length of the cut and how deep?”

“You’re very casual about this you know. It’s making my inner detective senses tingle.”

“It was a monster who killed hundreds of people,” he said fiercely sitting up in the chair. “It deserved to die.”

“I agree with you there but why the twenty questions?”

Sam relaxed in his chair again. “Anytime we encounter a new monster, we document everything we can about it so that if we or others meet another one like it we can deal with it.”

“Wait just how many monsters are there? And there are more people like you?”

“I don’t know the exact numbers but from what we’ve experienced there are a lot of them out there. New ones keep popping up. As for people like us, yes but not as many in recent years.”

“And you guys are out there killing monsters under the radar?” He sounded incredulous.

“Not quite under the radar as you’ve seen but we try our best to save as many as we can. To do that we need all the information on any new baddies that show up.”

Manuel clearly was a man who could roll with the punches. “Alright. So the monster was kind of stooped but I started about half way through the Lumbar Curve and ended about half way through the Thoracic Curve.”

“Impressive knowledge,” Sam said surprised.

“I did some EMT training with my sister,” he said in a no big deal kind of way.

“So would you say you might have pierced its heart?”

“It’s entirely possible but I honestly couldn’t be sure. It happened so fast then he exploded.” He sounded apologetic.

“That’s fine,” and it was. He had a lot of information to work with now. “Could you see what it was doing to Dean and Henry?” The monster had had its back to him so he couldn’t quite see.

“There were these blue wisps? Smoke maybe? Something between them and the monster,” He had an incredible tone, like he couldn’t believe what he was even saying.

“The doctor also hit us with blue fireballs,” he mused to himself. The method of feeding and attack bared several similarities with the djinn. More and more he was becoming convinced that they were the same if not related. "Alright Detective Arias-"

"Call me Manuel," he suggested.

"Manuel," Sam conceded. "You’re helping a lot."

“Anything I can do man,"

"What about Henry? What did he have to say in all this?"

“The kid was a trooper. He lied through his teeth and implicated both Brady and the doctor. He told them how the two of them kidnapped him and Isabella and how they tortured her before killing her. His father is suing the hospital."

"Hmm. So he didn't mention any monsters." Sam was surprised. Many would have wanted to scream what they knew to any who would listen. Especially someone so young.

"We've been talking. He's a smart kid. I think he's thinking of changing his major and going into some capacity of law enforcement."

Sam could understand that need for control. This was a defining moment in his life so it would definitely influence him.

"Do you happen to have his number? I want to see if I can get his version of events."

After getting the number, they said their goodbyes with vague mentions of keeping in touch. Sam called Henry next and he was immediately transferred to his father who asked him to thank his partner.

His suspicions proved correct in that Henry too had visions but not for long. The monster seemed much more interested in Dean.

"I blacked out a few times but it was weird you know? She kept talking about the quality of his emotions. Apparently the monster fed on the feelings that others have for you. The more intense the emotions the stronger it got. She sure talked a lot about it.

When the calls were over Sam had a clearer picture of what was going on.

\--

A few hours after he had spoken to Henry Mason, Sam heard movement in the hallways. Dean was back. He had not seen his brother since last night.

Sometimes, Dean would disappear for hours, doing who knows what. He didn't pry. If it was important for him to know, he was sure that Dean would tell him.

There was a flurry of activity in the kitchen. Dean was working on lunch for them both and soon after he could hear him entering the library.

"Hey Beautiful Mind. What's all this?" He referenced the meticulous arrangement of books and papers covering the surface of both tables.

The sudden pounding in his chest startled him because for a second there he thought Dean was calling him beautiful, before the rest of the sentence was out.

' _Of course he's not calling you that. What's wrong with you_?’ this he aimed at his fluttering heart.

"Just answering some questions about the case."

He felt overly self conscious about his blunder even though it was all in his head and as a result he tried to exude an outwardly appearance of calm.

“Oh yeah?” Dean said, standing by the door. Sam could tell that he was interested from his body language. “What did you find?”

“So get this, Yantho was actually an earlier offshoot of djinn. I found all these documents about the origins of djinns and some accounts of the different variations that some Men of Letters had tracked down,” Sam said gesturing to some of the pages.

Dean walked over to get a look at what he was pointing too. He rested one hand against Sam’s chair and leaned over him so he could see better.

Sam paused for a brief second as the knuckles of Dean’s fingers pressed warmly into his shoulders. The brief touch sent a tiny shock down his spine which he tensed up to suppress. _So much for unconscious touches_ , he thought.

“I-it tracked its victims based on how strongly that person was cared for.” He pulled away from the hand that was pressing into his skin as subtly as he could because for some reason, every sense in his body was suddenly focused there and it was hard to concentrate on what he was saying. He was still hyper aware of Dean behind him though, his scent floating over him and Dean’s body heat drawing him in like a magnet. “The person needed to be cared for so deeply that their death could cause their loved ones to wither away in despair.”

“Like Luke and Mrs. Mason,” Dean supplied, his voice a deep rumble grating against Sam’s spine. Neither bothered to mention the fact that Dean too had been kidnapped and fed on.

Sam took a deep breath, ready to launch into another lecture and got a lungful of Dean’s amazing scent again. _Why does he smell so good_? He thought distractedly. It was hard to concentrate when all his being was so tuned to Dean.

“Dude. Can you not hover over me? You stink,” he said suddenly.

“I do not,” Dean said offended, but he still sniffed at his armpits to make sure.

“Trust me. You do.” Sam emphasized his disgust, pulling away from him with relief. “I can’t breathe.” Sam scrunched up his face in feigned distaste. In reality he was just happy that Dean wasn’t so close anymore, stealing his concentration and his breath.

“Really? Shit man. Thanks for telling me. I was just coming to tell you that I’m going out to meet someone.” He winked suggestively. “Might be back later – or not.” All of a sudden Dean was preoccupied and not focusing on Sam at all. “Left something for you in the kitchen. I’m going to hit the showers. See you later little brother.” He said this over his shoulder as he left the room in a rush, no doubt to scrub away the imagined smell.

Immediately Sam’s good mood turned sour. He didn’t know what that feeling clawing at his chest was but it made his heart ache and his throat close. Leaving everything where it was, he walked to his room and closed the door.

-

He didn’t know how long he spent staring at the walls in his room, but his mind had cycled through the same series of thoughts several times. That seemed like an appropriate response to the mood he was in. No matter what, he couldn’t stop wondering what Dean was doing and with whom. The more he thought about it, the more upset he felt so he tried to avoid it, not looking too closely at why this was bothering him so much.

He turned over on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Why couldn’t he be more like Dean and just hook up with strangers. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d gotten relief from someone or something other than his own right hand.

He couldn’t seem to separate emotion from the act so he couldn’t just jump into bed with someone who didn’t mean something to him. The only time he’d been able to do that was when he was soulless and he’d felt horrible after.

His phone vibrated on the bed next to him. Picking it up he read the brief message.

 **Dean**  
You didn’t eat what I made you. [10:27pm]

 **You**  
Where are you? [10:28pm]

Ignoring the immediate lightening of his mood, he focused on the fact that Dean would have to be home to know that he hadn’t eaten.

 **Dean**  
My room. [10:28pm]

Sam looked at his phone incredibly. He ignored the tiny burst of happiness that went through him because it made no sense. Clicking the call button, he waited for Dean to pick up.

“Why are you texting me when you’re just down the hall?” He could barely keep the joy out of his voice.

“I didn’t know where you were. This was faster.” Dean said matter of factly.

“You’re ridiculous. How’d your date go?” Damn it. He hadn’t planned to ask but the question seemed to push itself out his lips.

“It wasn’t a date.” Dean sighed into the phone, Sam could pick up little sounds over the line like Dean had moved around on his bed.

“Hook up. Whatever,” he dismissed. The smile on his face hurt, it was so wide.

“We talked but I wasn’t into it. Kept thinking little brothers might be hiding in her bathroom listening.”

He could tell that Dean was joking so he went along with his playfulness and said, “that was absolutely your fault,” with indignation.

“Seriously though. I was just meeting her because a mutual friend set us up but the vibe was off. More importantly why didn’t you eat what I made you? I slave over a hot stove you know.”

“Sorry. I just wasn’t hungry.”

“You alright?” Dean was immediately serious.

“Yea. I’m fine,” Sam sighed and he was fine now.

“You in your room tonight? Will you sleep okay?”

He wrinkled his nose a little. “I thought you’d be gone all night so I figured I’d just stay here.”

“Well you thought wrong so if you want to you can come over.” He could hear the warmth in Dean’s voice even over the line and more than anything he wanted to be there.

“Alright,” he said softly. “See you in a bit.”

“Yea.”

Clicking off the phone, he hurried to get out of his bed, almost tripping as the sheets tangled around his legs. Leaving them where they were, half on, half off the bed, he went to Dean’s room.


	13. Forever In My Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was hard to get out just right. Let me know what you thought. Hopefully it worked out.
> 
> Yuna - Lullabies

Sam opened the door without knocking. Dean knew that he was coming so it didn’t seem necessary. Dean was laying down under the covers, reading. As soon as he entered, Dean looked up from the book he was reading and smiled. It wasn’t a particularly blinding or special smile, just a simple rucking up of his lips, but the effect on him felt transcending. He could feel his own lips lifting up in response.

“Hey,” he said as casually as he could, closing the door behind him. He didn’t enter any further. It felt like a true eternity since he’d last seen his brother and he needed the brief moment to get used to everything that made up Dean again. Instead, he leaned casually against the door.

“Hey,” Dean answered gruffly, before frowning at him a little. “Why’re you hovering by the door?”

“I’m not hovering,” he scoffed exaggeratedly, before walking as casual as he could to what was becoming his side of the bed. He climbed in, feeling the heavy weight of Dean’s eyes on him the entire time.

Pulling himself up to a sitting position, back against the headboard, Dean lay the book down across his lap, with his thumb as a bookmark. Coming to a decision, he closed it instead and placed it on the nightstand before turning slightly towards Sam.

“You would tell me if something was wrong, right?” He asked gently, he didn’t want to push.

“What do you mean?” He didn’t think that he’d been acting any differently than normal so he couldn’t imagine what Dean could be referring to.

“I don’t know. You just seem off lately.”

“I had a lot of questions about the case and it was bugging me you know? We’re here in this museum and I feel like it’s my responsibility to continue the Men of Letters’ work.” His hushed tones setting a quiet mood around them. “I was a little distracted working on it but I figured it out, which you would know if you hadn’t run out the door.” This he accused lightheartedly.

Dean chuckled a little. After a little while, he relaxed a bit and laid back down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Sam copied him. “You got me there. I’m here now, so you can tell me what you figured out,” he placated, folding his arms across his chest and getting a little more comfortable.

Sam told him everything he figured out in excited tones. He could tell that Dean was listening and he answered his questions as fully as he could.

“I knew you would figure it out,” Dean praised when he was done.

Sam could feel the warm glow of satisfaction heat his skin. He enjoyed answering questions and solving riddles, but the sheer gratification and validation he got from a few words from his brother is what really kept him doing this.

“Thanks,” he whispered tiredly, stifling a yawn around his smile. It was weird. He didn’t feel any of the strangeness from this morning. All he felt was happy and content.

Reaching over to turn off the lights, Dean said. “Get some sleep,” before settling under the covers with his back to Sam.

It was as if Dean’s words cast a spell over him, Sam could feel his eyes starting to droop. Turning to mirror his brother. He lets himself get pulled under.

-

He stood under the hot downpour of the shower lost in thought. He could not get the buzzing under his skin to go away. It felt like he was on the verge of an epiphany – like there was something he should be noticing but it was just out of sight. This feeling had been around for a few days now, steadily increasing until he was so wired he felt ready to jump out of his skin.

Absently, he grabbed Dean’s soap. He wasn’t even pretending to look at his own bottle anymore. It was just way more satisfying using Dean’s. Pouring a generous amount into his palm, he run his hands over his body. He got a thrill from knowing that he smelled a little like his brother all day.

He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. The scent wasn’t quite right. Not like it had been that morning when he woke up, again in Dean’s arms. Dean had been holding him so close that with each of his deep inhales, Sam could feel the slow, torturous drag of his chest and stomach along the curve of his back. At one point he was so close that he’d nuzzled his nose and slightly stubbled chin and face against the back of Sam’s neck; the slight abrasion sending a riot of goosebumps across his body. Dean’s warm exhales ruffled his hair and raked over his nerves maddeningly, forcing tiny tremors and shivers.

He let his soapy hands wander leisurely over his taunt stomach, feeling the muscles quiver under his touch as he relived the memory. In the dark of the room, he’d tried testing to see if he could stealthily free himself from the iron grip his brother had on him, but it was like Dean did not want to let him, his arm tightening where it lay low on his waist and pulling him just slightly closer.

He shifted his head to the side, letting the warm water run over his closed eyes as both hands travelled up his soapy chest in an easy glide. He didn’t know why being held down so securely made him quiver but as soon as he’d felt Dean’s arm tightening, he’d had to fight off the shudder struggling to rock his body, and bite off the moan that wanted out. The sensation was so intense and sudden, not to mention confusing. He could have easily broken out of the hold but that was not the point. Besides to do that, he would have had to wake Dean and he very much enjoyed laying in that bed.

A ragged groan escaped his lips as his fingers brushed over a pebbled nipple on its way back down his chest. It echoed in the empty bathroom around him obscenely but he barely heard it. He was so focused on remembering as much detail as he could from that morning. He’d felt charged, on edge. Tiny bolts of electric feeling pulsing through his body, his muscles clenching on every pleasured wave. He was so conscious of Dean that the tiniest shift or motion felt loud and aggressive against his oversensitized skin.

Remembering the intensity of it all lit a fire in him and it kept growing, burning stronger and heating his blood. He felt amazing. Better than he could remember feeling in a long time. One hand travelled lower, wrapping around himself before giving an absent stroke.

His eyes flew open in surprise at the force of the arousal that shot through him, curling his toes and forcing a broken sob from his throat. He froze through the rush of several pounding heartbeats before looking around the bathroom, guiltily.

His hand was still clenching and releasing around his cock like it was reluctant to let go. He could feel how hard he was but he still kind of had to look down, to make sure. Almost helplessly, his hand started to move again and one knee buckled under him, it felt so good. Catching himself against the wall, he closed his eyes and licked the water off his lips, concentrating hard. Should he do this?

It had been a while since he’d taken matters into his own hands, so to speak. Now that he was there though, he really kinda wanted to keep going.

 _Yea_ , he thought as his hands clenched around his cock again, he definitely wanted to. But he would have to be quick. It would be humiliating if Dean caught him like this. His back arched on a shudder as he imagined it. Dean walking in on him, being exposed like that.

 _Fuck!_ Yea, he _really_ wanted to do this. Grabbing the soap bottle he quickly smeared a tiny amount over his palm before gripping himself again. He was really getting off on the smell.

He closed his eyes, calling up a go to fantasy guaranteed to get him there. He wanted to make this as quick as he could.

Some nameless girl on her knees for him. She would look up at him through her eyelashes before trying to take him. Struggling, choking, she was so eager. It wasn’t going to take him long he could tell. Focusing hard on the fantasy, he bit his lower lip as he imagined all the filthy things he could tell this fictional woman to do.

‘ _Beg for it,’ fantasy Sam demanded as he teased her, rubbing the head over her lips. ‘You’re so hungry for my cock.’_

Unbidden, a memory superseded the image he was building. “How far can you take me.” It didn’t even seem strange when his hand unconsciously sped up as Dean’s smoky voice floated in his memory. He was so far gone, so caught up in the moment, chasing the orgasm that was eluding him.

He didn’t have a visual to go with the remembered words so he tried using his fantasy girl, but he couldn’t get it quite right. He made a frustrated sound. The image wasn’t strong enough.

He concentrated a little harder, hoping to build a more solid picture. “Good. Go slower and you’ll take more.”

Without warning, the tenuous mental image he was trying to build wobbled and in its place, he saw instead himself kneeling on the floor, choking as he greedily tried to take all of Dean. The fantasy lasted barely a few seconds before he was coming from the sheer shock of it. It was so visceral and raw. His big body quaking and shaking as guttural moans and breathless gasps rasped from his throat.

It took forever for the tremors raking his body to calm down and he could feel panic in the wings trying to take hold of him. Almost on autopilot, he rinsed off and in a daze, let his legs take him to his room.

-

He’d been sitting on the bed long enough for his body to dry off naturally. He felt stuck in a blank void trying to reach for denial but unable to.

‘ _Well that just happened_ ,’ he thought defeatedly. He’d officially sunk to the lowest level.

He stared blankly at his hands, blaming them for the whole thing. If he’d just showered and gotten out, none of this would have happened.

He tried to rally his thoughts after a while. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal. Sometimes the mind went to random places when fantasizing. It didn’t have to mean anything. It was probably a heat of the moment thing anyway. That had to be the rational answer.

But he knew it wasn’t because just cautiously remembering the brief image sent waves of interest spiking through him. Somehow, somewhere, his wires had gotten crossed.

He rucked up the towel as it slowly started to loosen around his waist.

He had never looked at Dean as anything other than a brother before. Sure, he admired him more than was probably healthy but to him Dean was big brother and nothing more. He’d never even considered the possibility of more because it just wasn't – like the idea didn’t exist in reality.

But something must have changed.

Was it the room sharing? It was an intimate setting so that was a possibility but he’d shared rooms and beds with Dean practically all his life so it should not have been any issue. He couldn’t, however, deny that maybe he wasn’t really looking at the room sharing as platonically as he had in the past. If his reactions over the week was anything to go by. He’d been excited and thrilled at the idea of first sleeping in Dean’s room, then his bed.

Resting his elbows on his knees, he steepled his hands and laid his chin on them staring at nothing in particular. How had it come to this?

Now that he was acknowledging his actions, so many things were becoming obvious. He couldn’t understand how he’d missed the signs. He was supposed to be smart. Over the last week, he’d been doing and feeling some pretty questionable things. Like his reaction to being in Dean’s room.

He’d also developed a habit of obsessing over his brother’s scent. Dean hadn’t even changed anything. It was the same scent it had always been. He knew this subconsciously but it had began to mean something different – something more significant.

A lot of the things he’d been doing started to make sense and he could see that it had been building unknowingly since they came home from the last case. He had clearly been fixating on Dean. Shivering in his bed like a virgin, getting jealous and depressed at the mention of a possible hookup, sniffing his dirty sheets.

How could he have been so blind?

He was attracted to his brother.

“Well shit,” he said without humour.

-

His stomach was cramping from hunger but he hadn't left the room yet. It was almost past noon but he didn’t think he had the courage to face Dean with the newness of this life altering fact hanging over him. He was sure that Dean would take one look at him and know. That it would be written on his face in big bold letters. “I want you to fuck me.”

He just had to wait a while and Dean would go out like he always did. He started pacing the floor trying to come up with a solution in the mean time. For all he knew, this was temporary and would go away. Maybe observing his brother in that compromising situation and being forced to bear witness confused him and his brain was just trying to make sense of it all.

It could have happened because he hadn’t really had an orgasm in a long time and in a moment of insanity from lack of blood to his brain, a crazy image popped up. Maybe if he thought about it again it wouldn’t even do anything.

He stopped and sat on the bed. _Are you really going to try and willingly fantasize about your brother_? He didn’t want to for fear that he might actually prove himself wrong and enjoy it but he needed to know. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, hoping nothing would happen.

Cautiously he built up an image in his mind of a similar scene. He bit his lips thoughtfully, his brows creased with his concentration.

_Dean was sitting on the bed in his room, strong hands on his thighs. Sam sat on his hunches on the floor, between his legs looking at Dean’s every move. Dean gave him the smile that was only reserved for him before fisting a hand in his long hair and pulling him up slightly to lock their lips in a heated kiss._

_He let Sam go and not breaking eye contact, unzipped his jeans. He pulled out his cock, and gave himself a few lazy strokes. “Look at how eager you are to suck your brother’s cock.”_

“Fuck,” Sam moaned, stretching the word out. He opened his eyes slowly. That definitely did it for him. He stared at the growing bulge pushing at the abrasive towel. He definitely couldn’t call this a fluke or an accident.

Letting his body drop back on the bed, he threw one hand over his eyes and untucked the towel with the other. He could feel guilt trying to over take him but he shut it out and instead palmed the heavy weight in his hand. He let the fantasy continue to play out.

-

He managed to avoid seeing Dean all day. No small feat as they were the only two people in the building. Now he was about to enter his brother’s room with this massive thing hovering over him. Even knowing what he did, he wasn’t willing to give up sleeping in Dean’s bed.

Although the room was dark, he could tell that Dean was not asleep yet. Maybe they could pretend everything was fine and Sam could just sleep. It was unlikely to happen but he could hope.

He closed the door as quietly as he could and skulked over to the bed, climbing in. As he was starting to relax, Dean spoke. “Didn’t see you all day.” His deep rumble sent tingles across Sam’s scalp. He couldn’t do this. Clenching his eyes tight, he didn’t say anything. Maybe Dean would think that he had already fallen asleep.

Dean didn’t seem to buy his act because he said, “what’s going on with you lately?” His voice was laced with slight concern like he wasn’t sure yet it he needed to be worried but was getting there.

“What do you mean?” _Did he know?_ Sam wondered fearfully.

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. I’ve been getting this vibe from you for the last few days.”

“It’s nothing. I’ve just been working through some things. Can’t seem to shut my mind down while I try to figure it out. You know?” He hoped that would be enough to get Dean to let it go.

“Can you tell me what it is? Maybe I can help. We did say we’d be more open with each other.” Sam wished this was something he could share but it felt too big – like it had the potential to destroy their relationship kind of big.

“I’m not... keeping it a secret per say,” he thought about it a little. “I’m not even sure what it is. I feel like it’s something my mind’s trying to wrap itself around. So I wouldn’t even know how to explain,” he shrugged.

“Alright. If you need to, you know where to find me.” He didn’t sound pleased but he wasn’t going to push.

“Alright,” and the discussion ended but Sam felt dissatisfied. H felt like he was disappointing Dean somehow. But what could he do? He couldn’t tell him about this. He knew he was being a hypocrite. He’d been the one demanding that they be more open with each other yet he was lying to Dean. But what could he do?

It was hard to get to sleep. He could tell when Dean dropped off, his breathing evening out, but he just couldn’t seem to relax. He was afraid of what might happen. Would he react to Dean? What if he groped him in his sleep or worse said something?

Worried thoughts raced through his mind until he too gave in and fell asleep.

\--

He woke up when he felt Dean’s arm loosened around him. _Not again_ , he thought in frustration with his body. He could feel himself thickening just from knowing that Dean was holding him. If felt like Dean was just starting to wake up, his body moving lazily in the early throes of consciousness. Sam quickly pretended to be asleep, shutting his eyes and laying as still as he could. He heard Dean groan as he raised his head from the pillow, before yawning. His arm was still around Sam, forgotten or not noticed.

He’d expected Dean to quickly pull away but he was doing the exact opposite and taking his time. He had to know that he was still holding onto Sam.

Dean turned over and squeezed him briefly before finally letting go and ruffling his hair affectionately. Sam almost let out a whimper as he felt Dean’s arms tighten around him for that moment. Luckily he was able to catch the sound before it could escape.

Sam felt the bed dip a little as Dean sat on the edge, gathering his bearings before getting up and leaving the room.

He was so confused. Shouldn’t Dean have been doing everything in his power to get away from the situation? Why did it seem like he wouldn’t have minded staying exactly where he was? Was he the only one making a big deal out of it?

Worst yet, now that he was acknowledging his attraction, he couldn’t deny that what he was feeling was arousal. He was on fire with it. He looked down at the evidence. It surprised him every time he saw it. For a second he entertained the idea of taking care of it right there, in Dean’s bed, surrounded by his scent but he knew that Dean would kill him if he ever found out, so getting up he snuck out of the room to find privacy.

-

His goal for the day was basically the same as yesterday. Avoid Dean as much as possible while he tried to get over this thing but Dean wasn’t having it. He must have noticed Sam’s absent more than he realized.

“Come on Sam. If you can’t get your mind to chill then lets beat it into submission. Come on. Let’s spar.” He seemed to be in a good mood, joking and grinning as he forced his way into Sam’s room. He’d thought he was safe hiding in the room but Dean had taken him by surprise.

All Sam could think of was that sparring involved a lot of physical contact and close touches and with the way his traitorous body was acting right now he didn’t trust himself in that situation.

“It’s not a good idea. I didn’t get much sleep last night,” he tried to hedge, coming up with any excuse he could.

“The monsters won’t care about your sleep cycle. Come on.” He goaded. Sam knew that tone. Dean wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He could feel irritation bubbling under his skin. He really wasn’t up to this. He just wanted to be alone for a little while to figure this out.

“Dean...” he began before Dean grabbed his biceps. In shocked reaction, he pulled away almost aggressively. He’d only been trying to get away from the touch and reacted instinctively but he could see the hurt on Dean’s face.

“I’ll leave you alone,” Dean said subdued, before closing the door on a frozen Sam.

“Fuck!” he said after a while. He felt trapped and lonely all of a sudden. Why did he always have to mess things up. He crawled into his bed, feeling sorry for himself.

\--

He’d been in his room for so long that it was starting to feel like a prison. It was more morning than night at this point and he had yet to sleep. Every time he tried, he ended up replaying that look on Dean’s face again and it would cause this pain in his chest that robbed him of rest.

Eventually, he’d had enough. He just wanted to be near Dean. Why did he have to deny himself? This thing would work itself out eventually regardless of whether or not he was around his brother. It was just too exhausting trying to stay away and after two days of this, he was done.

He made his way to his brother’s room and crawled into his bed. Dean had left his space for him instead of taking the entire bed. For some reason this gave him hope and within moments he was falling asleep. He would apologize in the morning.

-

He woke up alone in the bed. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed at not waking up to Dean spooning him but maybe this was for the best. He sighed. They needed to talk before things became too toxic between them but he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell Dean the truth but he needed to tell him something.

He groaned in frustration, rolling on his back and shoving his fingers into his hair as far as it would go. He didn’t know what he would say but he knew that he had to find Dean to at least apologize. Sitting up in the bed, he swung his legs over the edge only to freeze. Dean was siting on the couch looking at him.

“I spent all day yesterday trying to figure it out.” He said gravely. “I kept telling myself that it wasn’t possible. That I’d know but honestly I’m starting to not be so sure.”

Sam was confused. What was he talking about? He asked as much.

“I’m starting to think you’re not really my brother. Maybe I’m still stuck in that monster’s dream.” He sounded so sure that a chill of horror slithered over Sam.

“Dean-” he began, only to be cut off.

“This is exactly how the cycles worked. Fake Sam would rescue me. He’d seem like my brother for a little bit but slowly he’d start to grow distant then violent before trying to kill me.” Dean looked like a husk of the man that Sam admired so much. He must have been thinking about this for a while, convincing himself that he was still stuck because Sam was shutting him out for no apparent reason.

He’d messed up so bad. He forgot that Dean’s world revolved around him just as much as his revolved around his brother. Of course Dean would notice that he was avoiding him and yesterday he’d even pulled away from him. His hands were trembling as he struggled to find the right words.

“Dean,” he pleaded. “You’re out. I promise. I got you out. This is really me. Remember, you said he couldn’t get me quite right so you’d know.” He was getting off the bed slowly, cautiously, moving closer to his brother.

“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I wanted to be out so desperately I was willing to believe anything.” His eyes were so cold and distant, tracking Sam’s movement as he said this.

Slowly, he sat next to Dean. A million nightmare scenarios played in his mind. What if Dean had tried killing himself to wake up while he was hiding in his room? “You aren’t wrong. It’s really me. Come on. You know me better than anyone. You would definitely know.” He bumped their shoulders hoping Dean could feel his realness from the brief touch.

“Then why have you been acting so strange?”


	14. Do We Get What We Deserve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the amazing people who left comments on the last chapter. You don't know how much that helped me write this one. I truly hope that I was able get the right tone. I'd love to have a conversation with you all about the story or Supernatural in general so hit me up in a comment!
> 
> Way Down We Go - Kaleo

Sam leaned further into the couch, his head dropping onto the back in defeat as he tried to come up with an answer. He was unsure if it was a good idea to even broach this topic.

Stalling for time, he ran both hands up and down his face vigorously and let out a long groan of agitation. His legs splayed out in front of him in a careless manner almost touching Dean’s as the digital clock clicked over to seven am.

Dean sat next to him, patient. He was loose but no less ready to spring into action if needed. It was clear that he was more than prepared to wait as long as it took and that Sam was not going to get out of this discussion, no matter what.

Restlessness and anxiety battled it out in his stomach. To relieve some of the energy they generated, he got up and walked to the other side of the room, shaking out his body. His back to Dean.

He ran his nervous fingers through his mid-length hair quickly, making several passes. It was a habit he'd picked up and didn't even notice how often he did it anymore.

He still felt a little sleep stupid and to have this kind of conversation so early in the morning felt like some form of punishment.

He darted a quick look in his brother's direction, not at all surprised to find him still observing silently.

Unable to stall anymore, he opened his mouth to start but the words got caught in his throat. He was reluctant because the moment he started – the moment words on this topic left his mouth, their dynamic would change forever.

But he had to at least say something. He sighed, feeling drained all of a sudden. His shoulders drooped like all the life had poured out of him. He didn't want to do this.

"I swear, on my life, that I don't want to hurt you," he was finally able to get out. At the very least Dean needed to know that much. "I'm sorry I pulled away yesterday. You took me by surprise and I reacted badly. That was not what I meant to do." Nothing else came after that and he struggled for a few moments.

He made another sound, this one filled with frustration. "I can’t do this man. It's my issue and if I shared it, it could ruin us." He looked at Dean imploringly, willing him to understand.

He wasn't going to be able to get out of this he could tell from the determined set of Dean's shoulders. "I haven't given up on you yet Sam. I don't think there's much that could make me at this point."

A harsh laugh forced its way out of Sam at that. "This might be the thing that does it."

"I'd never judge you for the stuff that goes on in your head," Dean promised. He was not going to budge.

Sighing in defeat, Sam said, "well," but nothing came out. His mind was blank and the words got stuck in his throat. He looked at Dean again begging him silently to forget about.

"Sam no matter what it is. I will never abandon you. You're probably blowing this whole thing way out of proportion anyway. I bet it's not even a big deal."

He laughed again. Dean didn't know how wrong he was. He figured it would be easier to talk about this if he wasn't facing Dean so he walked to the opposite side of the room and sat with his back against the bed and stared at the wall.

After a moment of quiet, he turned around, the stretch of it a little uncomfortable on his back and neck so he could peer at Dean over the bed.

"You sure you can't just take my word for it that it's bad?" He tried one more time hoping to get out of having to discuss this.

Dean looked at him a moment. It almost seemed like he was considering it but Sam knew better.

"This thing, whatever it is, is affecting you badly enough where I thought you might not be you. You can't handle it."

Turning back, he rest his head against the bed staring at the place where the wall met the ceiling.

"Well here goes nothing," he said hopelessly. He took a deep breath and started. "I thought it wouldn't be a big deal and I'd get over it but what happened in the bathroom in Texas has kind of... forced me to see things... differently," he said choosing his words carefully. "And it's tripping me up." And then he waited, tensed and worried about the possible backlash.

His ears trained on the most minute of sounds but silence shrouded the room long enough for Sam's anxiety to grow. Unable to bear it anymore, "Say something."

"Not gonna lie. Out of all the things I thought you were gonna say, that... didn't make the list."

Sam was quiet, his head resting against the bed as he sprawled out carelessly on the floor.

"I am sorry you had to hear that. I can't imagine having to hear something like that. Of course if it were me I'd have left before anything started but we kind of didn't give you the chance." Sam could hear the regret and embarrassment in his voice.

He almost laughed when he understood what Dean was implying. It became apparent that Dean thought that hearing him in the act was the problem. That the embarrassment of witnessing (to some extent) a sibling in that compromising position was bothering him. It was a reasonable assumption, after all who would even think of the other possibility? For a second, he considered taking the out but decided not to. If he did, then eventually the real issue would pop up again.

"You'd think that that was the problem right? That I was embarrassed by what I heard," he softly whispered. "But it's not." There he paused thinking of how to say the words best. "I keep thinking about it. Yeah, but not in disgust. I'm... _reacting_ to it," he emphasized significantly. He really didn't want to have to actually say the words for fear of how Dean might respond.

Slowly he started to tense. Dean hadn't said anything in a while.

"Well it's not a big deal. It's like porn. You hear or see stuff and you can't help it. It's biology," Dean excused for him. "It just means you're human. You're a real boy after all."

"It’s not like porn,” he insisted. “Sex I can deal. That’s not the problem. The problem is that I’m not trying to imagine myself in your place. Or even thinking about the girl. I'm reacting to your voice and the things you said," he finished gravely.

The other side of the room was silent. Sam did not think he'd have the courage to continue if he turned around so he just forged through, "I know how bad that is. That's why I didn't want to tell you. I'm messed up and I keep thinking about it and I just wanted to get away so I could work through it."

He bowed his head against his knees, both hands wrapping around his shins as if to protect himself against whatever backlash Dean might send his way.

He started to think that maybe Dean had left, he'd not said anything in so long. "Come on man. You're killing me over here. You forced me to talk about this so you gotta say something."

"I don't know what to say Sammy. This is so far from what I was expecting." There was no inflection in his voice so Sam couldn't even guess what would come next. It felt like he was sitting on a pile of explosives that could go off at any moment. "Maybe it's a temporary thing, like shock and it'll go away."

Always his big brother trying to save him from himself. Tightening his arms around his legs, he hunched over himself some more, so much so that the words he spoke next were muffled in the cavern of his body. "I thought so too Dean... but I don't think that's it. I've been trying to work through this for days now and it's just getting worse. I can barely be in the same room with you anymore without thinking of how you sounded." He trailed off towards the end, his neck and face felt hot admitting the words.

"Sleeping in your bed is the worst. You hold me so close in your sleep. I wake up aching and hard." This he whispered like a guilty secret. "So I'm pretty sure it's not a temporary thing."

" Sam..."

"I know!" he said in frustration, shooting up to his feet. "I know. I told you I didn't want to talk about this. Just forget I said anything."

He felt irrationally angry at Dean for forcing him to talk about this. Dean kept looking at him, through his flurry of activity. He knew he wasn't being fair. He knew that Dean needed to process what he'd said, but he was feeling unreasonable and vulnerable. More so than he could remember feeling ever and he just wanted to go to a place where they were normal again.

"Let's just pretend this never happened," he shot fiercely over his shoulder as he yanked the door open and walked out. Maybe closing it a little more forcefully than was strictly necessary.

-

He’d tucked tail and hidden in his room. He was pretty sure that Dean would not come looking for him any time soon but just in case, he wanted a door between them as well as the ability to say that he was not available.

He walked around the room making several laps, filled with nervous energy as he tried to fight back the overwhelming feeling of panic that was trying to consume him. He made a pained sound as he replayed the conversation over in his head. What would happen to them? Would they be okay?

Maybe he would never be able to face his brother again. How was he supposed to continue his life if they couldn’t talk? Would they just walk around each other in the hallways, not acknowledging the other’s existence? The whole reason he liked his life, despite it being thwart with many dangers, was because he got to spend it with his brother. He wouldn’t be able to do this without him.

Secretly he had hoped that by telling Dean about this, their relationship could have evolved to some extent. Things had been the same between them for awhile now. They were so familiar with each other that most times they barely had to talk anymore. A simple look here or a nod there would communicate exactly what the other was thinking. A break from the tedium would have been refreshing not to mention exciting.

He’d been delusional, letting himself get sucked into a fantasy, imagining how it could be between them and thinking it was okay. He’d thought that maybe he could have it all. Dean would want him back and they could spend their time hunting and fooling around.

What had he been thinking? There was no way Dean would go for that. Why had he thought it would be so easy? Now, Dean was who knows where thinking who knows what.

At least he no longer thought that Sam wanted to kill him. That was something, small consolation in wake of the new rift between them but something regardless. Chuck forbid he tried to “wake” himself from the perceived dream.

He groaned in humiliation as he relieved the conversation again. He ran his fingers through his hair roughly, wishing that he could turn back time and refuse Dean when he had insisted. To make things worse, they were technically on vacation. He’d hoped to spend the time bonding and hanging out with Dean but in light of this new development would that mean that they would instead spend days ignoring each other? Sure Dean said that he’d never abandon him but this was not a little deal. Would Dean maybe grow to hate him?

He felt a chill crawl over him as he came to realize that that was a possibility. It wasn’t a simple thing to tell your sibling that you wanted to have an explicit relationship with them. That was the kind of thing that tore families apart. There was so much taboo and stigma attached to it. Dean, who tried so hard to care for him would never allow himself to even consider the idea. It was more than likely he’d think that he’d caused this problem somehow. The more he thought about it the more he started to realize just how messed up the whole thing was. There was no way Dean would go for it.

“Fuck,” he swore. He was never going to be able to look at Dean again. That was a fact. He dropped down on the bed, trying to stave off the nausea at the back of his throat. He couldn’t live his life not talking to Dean. That wasn’t possible but he needed a way to move past the whole thing.

Maybe if he just did as he told Dean and pretend the whole conversation never happened. They were good at pretending. They did it all the time. He’d just act like he never said anything and they would be alright. He would have to do whatever it took to make it alright. He wasn’t going to lose his brother over his stupid hangups.

He got up again, his mind lost in thought, so preoccupied that he couldn’t sit without feeling the desperate need to move. He pulled his hair back into a temporary bun and rucked his lips to the side thinking.

He’d have go out there and pretend that everything was okay. That meant he couldn’t hide in his room anymore. Maybe he would see Dean and maybe he wouldn’t. Regardless he’d just act normal. But he needed an excuse to go outside. He couldn’t just go out there for no reason. That would be weird and not normal.

An idea came to him. He’d left his papers on the table in the library days ago. Usually he would have already removed them but he’d technically been avoiding Dean for a while and as of last night, they were still in the library. That was a good enough excuse to leave his room. He’d go to the library and tidy up.

-

He entered the library and faltered as he saw Dean at the table organizing the papers. He’d already cleared the first table and was working on the second one. “Hey,” Sam said with only a little hesitation in his voice. Although he’d gone out to deliberately find Dean, he’d been more than hoping not to see him just yet.

Dean was bent over the table in the process of piling some of the papers together. His jeans clung tightly to him, trying to stretch with the bend and Sam did everything in his power not to notice how well they fit.

“Hey,” Dean answered gruffly, looking at him over his shoulders briefly before and continuing his task.

Sam was trying his best not to look awkward lingering by the door. He swore he could feel the laser point of Dean’s opinion boring into his soul, and judging it as unclean. More than anything Dean looked like he wasn’t sure where they stood. He’d done that to them. He was more convinced than ever that pretending it didn’t happen was the best course of action.

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll do it,” he said, coming over to hover near the head of the clean table.

“It’s no problem. You did all the heavy lifting, least I can do,” Dean thew over his shoulder.

“Let me at least help.” They worked on the clean up together in silence with the occasional question from Dean on Sam’s organizational methods. Sam made sure that at all times there was a table or chair between them. Even though he was pretending to be normal, he was still overly conscious of his brother.

He was organizing the pages Dean had already collected before he arrived, when his stomach gurgled audibly in the room. They both looked up at the same time.

Dean chuckled as Sam shrugged his shoulders. “Guess I’m hungry,” he said redundantly. He was just happy Dean was still able to laugh in his presence.

“Come on,” he gestured, still smiling. “I’ll make you something. You can finish the rest after.” Most of the work was already done so he left the remaining files on the table and followed Dean into the kitchen.

-

He could already tell that Dean was making them breakfast sandwiches. Sam sat at the silver counter watching him silently. He felt like he should say something but he didn’t know what to say and he didn’t want to fill up the emptiness with random chatter. It would just make him seem nervous.

Dean too hadn’t really spoken since he’d started, which could mean any number of things. He was choosing to believe that it meant that he was not angry. He could remember many times in the past when Dean had been upset with him and he didn’t want to have to relive those day again.

Before long, he could see Dean assembling the sandwiches. It smelled amazing. The pot of coffee started gurgling just as Dean was adding the finishing touches. He poured one cup, placing it near Sam. Grabbing both dishes, he took the seat opposite Sam.

“Eat up,” he said, handing one plate over. As Sam reached for it, their fingers touched and a tiny spark of electricity surged through him, causing him to freeze. Dean had already let go and the dish slipped through Sam’s nerveless fingers.

It clattered to the table before bouncing and falling to the floor, shattering and spilling bread, egg and vegetables about.

“Shit! Fuck!” he said making an attempt to catch the falling items but it was already too late. He got up off the chair to clean up his mess but Dean stopped him.

"Leave it. I'll get it," he said as he bent down to pick up the pieces of glass large enough to not slice his fingers. "Seriously dude. Leave it," he continued when Sam ignored him. " It's not a big deal."

"You sure?" Sam asked feeling wrong-footed. He did not know how he was supposed to act and it was making him unsure.

Taking his seat slowly, he watched as Dean quickly cleaned up the mess and placed his own plate in front of Sam.

"Dean..." he started.

Dean shrugged as he poured himself a cup of coffee and took the seat opposite Sam. "Don't worry about it. It's not the first time I had to give my pain-in-the-ass little brother my food." He took a leisurely sip from his cup like he didn't have a care in the world. All the while Sam was looking at him incredibly. "Come on. Eat up. I know you like this."

Sam felt such gratitude as he picked up the sandwich. He knew what Dean was doing. He was trying to bring them back to a place where they could be normal. He was trying to make things okay between them again.

"Thanks," he said to the sandwich before taking a big bite. Dean nodded before humming in response.

" So what's the plan for the next little while?" Dean asked, placing his cup down.

"I don't really have a plan per say. We could finish organizing the files?" He suggested trying his best to follow Dean's lead.

"What about fun Sam. Remember fun? If we're on vacation we should be doing something we would enjoy."

"That is fun," he smiled into his own cup.

"Maybe for you," he grumbled overly exaggerated like he was wont to do.

Only then did Sam accept that they would be okay. He said something back in an easy tone, not really caring what it was, just happy in the fact that they could still be themselves after their conversation this morning.

-

Sam had been walking for a while now. The nature song was his only companion as birds and insects went about preparing for their night. The bunker was in a pretty remote area and the path he’d taken ensured that he was not likely to run into another person for a while, if at all. The unpaved trail beneath his feet crunched rhythmically as he kicked up several clouds of white and brown dust from his hasty stride. Surprisingly it was not as cold as he anticipated. He could still see his breath as he walked but he did not feel uncomfortable. The sun was slowly making its decent. He figured he’d have about an hour of light left so he kept walking and thinking.

Although their interaction in the kitchen proved that they could still be themselves, he couldn't deny that it also meant that he was even more aware of Dean than ever. He wasn't able to be as unfazed about the whole thing as he would have liked.

Dean could do all he could to help them reach some semblance of normal but the fact remained that if he couldn't get his shit together, there would always be discomfort between them. He had an idea brewing. It seemed like it might be the perfect fix for his problem but as he’d figured out earlier, Dean might not go for it. He might need some convincing. It was a little crazy but if he could do it just right maybe he could pull it off and they would be fine again.

-

Sam was sitting in the library reading more into Jonathan Fisher's journal. He’d returned from his walk a while ago and it was getting late at night but he wanted to make sure that he wasn't hiding in his room. More than that he wasn't sure if he was still welcomed in Dean's after their talk earlier that morning. He had admitted to enjoying lying in his brother’s bed a little more than was acceptable after all. Would Dean deny him now? Would things be too strenuous between them to share a bed platonically?

Eventually he would have to make a decision but for the moment he preferred to put it off for as long as he could.

He flipped to the next page in the book before he heard the door at the top of the stairs open up. He stole a quick look up at Dean as he made his way down the stairs.

"Hey," Dean said when he saw him. He was holding a plastic bag in one hand. "I'm headed to bed in a bit, I'll probably be out like a light. You don’t have to worry about waking me when you head in."

The sense of relief he felt was immense. Dean was letting him know in his own way that Sam could still share his room if he wanted. "I'm pretty tired myself. I'll be there in a moment."

Despite what he said, he loitered around in the library for over a half hour yet still when he quietly entered the room, he could tell that Dean had not yet fallen asleep.

They were both laying in the bed silently. Sam felt like he couldn't sleep unless he said something to make sure they were really alright. It was like a pressure in his throat trying to force words out. He turned onto his back, tucking the covers under his arms.

"Thanks for letting me stay here, despite everything," he said softly, knowing that Dean would hear him.

"You're my kid brother. I told you, I'd never abandon you." His voice was rough with disuse.

"I don't know Dean. There are some things that you can shrug off. This definitely isn't one of them." He was apologetic and would give anything to not feel this way.

"You just got to work through it Sam," he suggested. That was always Dean's answer. They would figure it out – find a way.

"What if that doesn't work?" He wondered seriously. That thought had been going through his mind all day. "What if I feel this way forever. Maybe we should try-"

"No Sam. Go to sleep."

"You didn't even hear what I was going to say," he accused.

"I don't need to hear. I already know and the answer is no. Now sleep." He turned over, officially putting an end to the conversation.

Sam eventually turned over to stare at the opposite wall, the bed creaking with his movements. He stuffed an arm under the pillow and moved around until he felt comfortable. He knew when a discussion was over, at least for that moment.

Dean had said no but he always said no to Sam's suggestions the first few times. As long as he wasn't angry and asking him to leave, then there was a chance. He'd work on him in the morning.

-

The next morning, Sam slowly woke up. He could already tell that he was alone in the bed. He had conflicting feelings about this similar to the previous day. Should he feel disappointed because he didn’t get to wake up in Dean’s arms again or should he feel relieved that he didn’t have to deal with the nightmare of waking up spooning after yesterday.

He sighed into the pillow, dragging his sleep loose limbs along the soft sheets. He could understand why Dean had left the room early and there was no doubt in his mind that Dean had deliberately manufactured an early escape. It couldn’t be easy trying to maintain the role of brother when Sam was clearly making it difficult. He knew that more than anything Dean wanted to make sure that he was happy and he should feel guilty that he was making that impossible but he really couldn’t seem to muster up the feeling.

The thing about Dean was that either he absolutely wouldn't go for something, which was rare, in which case he’d be explosively angry or on the flip side, he was more open to being convinced. No matter how tough he acted, when it came to Sam, his default was usually the latter. Dean had shut him down last night but that was the Dean who could be convinced to see things Sam’s way, even if he didn’t realize it yet.

He just had to try again. That was all.

The more he thought about it, the more the thought settled in him. The idea that he could maybe get Dean to see him as more sent nerves of excitement and anticipation down his spine. He smiled a little to himself and turned onto his back feeling hope for the first time.

-

“Sam,” he said in his sternest voice. “We are not talking about this.” They were in the war room. Dean had recently returned from the garage from the grease stain on one hand.

Sam rolled his eyes. “You’re not Dad you know. You can’t send me to my room,” he said in a droll tone. “All I’m saying is that it might not be a horrible idea.”

Dean gave him an incredulous look. “You do realize what you’re asking me right? Are we having the same conversation?” He started to walk away, headed to the kitchen.

“I do know what I’m asking,” Sam followed him, not willing to give up yet.

“Good, then you should know why it’s a bad idea.”

“No Dean. I don’t know why it’s a bad idea. I’m just saying that if we tried something, maybe it might help.”

“You just admitted yesterday that you didn’t think it would go away. So what would be the point of trying anything? Anyway why are we even having this discussion? It’s not going to happen.” Dean walked down the little steps into the kitchen and started washing his hands at the sink.

“Give me one good reason why not?” Sam sat down at the table by reflex. He’d done it so many times that his body just moved.

“For one? You’re my brother?” Dean said like it was obvious enough not to need saying.

Sam scoffed at that. “When has brother ever held us back? You know to us that it means more. You went to hell for me. You were tortured for 30 years. You were willing to spend eternity there just so I could live. Even now you continue to put me above everything else. So yeah you’re my brother but the word means so much more than that.”

“Sam,” he said pleadingly. “I can’t,”

-

He didn’t know why that conversation upset him so much. He’d left the kitchen for fear he might say something hurtful and had avoided Dean all day.

Still, he climbed into Dean’s bed and whispered a “Please, think about it,” to Dean, only to get another, “I can’t.”

The ache in his throat from longing had felt suspiciously similar to choked back tears as he huddled in his corner of the bed, upset. He’d again woken up to an empty room and spent several hours just feeling sorry for himself as he relived the last few days over and over.

Dean was no where to be found. It was so obviously a tactical retreat and it added to Sam’s feelings of being snubbed. Maybe he was being unreasonable. Most siblings would balk at the idea of an incestuous relationship. He was lucky to have a brother who didn’t abandon him for his feelings. Dean would have been well within his rights to start throwing punches when he’d first brought up the idea. So he should be grateful that his brother was even willing to still let him into his bed.

But the more he thought about them together the more longing he felt. The more he wanted it to be real. He just couldn’t accept that it was not possible for them.

He wanted Dean to want him back. But no matter how many times he asked, the answer was always ‘I can’t’, like someone or something was stopping him.

Suddenly it dawned on him. Dean had said he couldn’t but he hadn’t explicitly said no. He didn’t say no. With Dean, these kinds of semantics were very important. If Dean had been completely adverse to the idea his no would have been resounding and final, even explosive but he _hadn’t_ said no. He’d said he couldn’t. This meant that there was something in Dean that might consider the idea if not for some kind of mental or physical block. If Sam could figure out what that block was—what hurdle he had to climb to get Dean to at least consider his idea, maybe he could convince him that this was a good thing.

\--

He woke up when he felt the bed dip. He’d waited all day for Dean but his brother had made sure that he was out of sight.

“Dean?” he croaked in a sleep muffled voice.

“Go back to sleep Sam,” Dean whispered but this was his chance. Sam couldn’t go back to sleep.

He turned over in the bed so he could better look at his brother, propping himself up on one arm. “Dean...” he started.

“Sam...” Dean groaned in annoyance.

“Just tell me why not. You keep saying you can’t but not why?”

Dean groaned again this time in frustration. “Why can’t you just take my word for it?” echoing Sam’s words from earlier.

“Because I think you’re not as upset about this as you should be. So I need to know why not. I won’t be able to stop hoping you know? Like I keep going in circles in my head and if you could just give me a reason why not then maybe I could stop.”

Dean paused and looked at him for a moment. He was sitting on the side of the bed like he’d been preparing to climb in.

“Fine. You want to know why I can’t?” he asked in exasperation. “It’s like you said Sammy. Brother means more. From the moment Dad placed you in my arms, I felt like you were mine and the truth is, I fight myself every goddamned day to give you your freedom. I know I don’t always succeed but I try so hard to not control your life. So you’re right. It doesn’t bother me that you feel this way as it probably should. I thought it would and I kept waiting for the anger or disgust but it’s just not there.” His back bowed tiredly.

“But Sammy I can’t let myself go where you want me to. It would be _too_ easy and you would end up hating me because if I went where you wanted to lead, I’d start to see you as truly mine. In every way,” He emphasized. “I’d do things and expect things from you that you wouldn’t appreciate and I wouldn’t care.” He turned around to look at Sam as he said this. The soft night light cast these long shadows over his face that really played up the dark things he was suggesting. All Sam could do was listen.

“Right now, as we are, things are good. You could leave anytime you wanted to. It would hurt if you did but you could. And that’s what’s important. You could be with someone if you decided to quit today and it’d be fine too.” He turned back around, hunched over as he continued to confess his thoughts. Things Sam had never thought he even considered.

“But if we were to do this thing you want, you would never have that freedom again. If you tried to leave I’d find you and bring you back. If you tried to be with someone else I’d kill them and bring you back because you would be mine. That’s why I _can’t_. I know that the person I’d become would go against everything you stand for but I wouldn’t know how to be anything but that. You mean too much. So I think that we should keep things as they are right now cause I know how much you’d end up hating me and I can do anything in this world except let that happen.”

He got up afterwards and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Sam knew he wouldn’t be back that night.

He lay in the bed with his heart pounding. That speech should have scared him. What Dean described sounded intense and beyond unhealthy but at this point in their lives he wouldn’t expect anything less. The desperation they felt to save each other, especially when one was about to die could only breed that kind of ferocity.

-

The idea of belonging so completely to Dean kept him up for hours. He would have to find a way to convince his brother that he definitely wanted everything he’d described.


	15. Where Do We Go From Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the amazing people who continue to read, kudos and comment on this fiction. I am incredibly grateful and humbled by your kindness. To the people who left comments you might notice some of the things you mentioned being answered in this chapter. Sometimes I forget people can't see the story like I can and your comments really helped me find the areas I might have missed. 
> 
> Where Do We Go From Here - Ruelle

It was several hours into the morning already and still Sam loitered in the room. While he usually preferred to get his day started early, he'd found himself needing a lot of time to think on and analyze the sudden changes in his usually consistent life and the feeling of home he got from being in Dean's room helped. Despite their current disagreement on the nature of their relationship, he still found that he could more easily figure out where his head was while in the room.

His mind inevitably returned to the conversation they'd had last night, as it had been doing since he first opened his eyes. It felt like so much had happened in a few short days. If he looked at it all as a whole, he felt overwhelmed because it seemed entirely possible that they were heading to a place he used to think was impossible for them. A place he didn't want to dare hope was likely, less it vanish out of spite.

He was still reeling from Dean’s revelations and he had so many questions. How long had Dean been thinking about this, to speak with the level of certainty that he had? Was this a new development or had he already thought about the two of them as a possibility before their conversation? A thrill went through him at the idea that maybe he might not be as alone in this as he’d originally thought.

He lay loosely on his back, the glow from the night light casting soft shadows all around him. Both hands cradled his head, makeshift pillows for added support, while giving him a slightly angled view. His feet crossed loosely at the ankles. All of this lent a picture of calm and relaxation, unlike the roiling storm of turmoil going on in his mind. He noticed a slight chill in the room absently. It was just bearable enough that he didn't feel like putting in the effort necessary to lift the covers that were near his thighs over his body. Instead he focused on the pressing thoughts that demanded his attention.

He knew that Dean had intended to scare him with the rawness of his words. He must have really wanted to get Sam to understand, in as completely a way as he could, why this thing between them couldn’t work. Dean was only that honest when he wanted to really get his point across. It happened rarely but when it did, Sam always made sure he gave him his full attention and consideration. He knew how hard it was for Dean to bare himself like that. One of the strongest memories of this was when Dean had finally caved and told him about his time in hell.

Maybe Dean had thought that telling Sam his thoughts would discourage him from trying to push for more. Maybe he'd even hoped to scare him with how dominating and obsessive they were. But he couldn't be more wrong. Sam _wanted_ Dean to focus on him that much. He _wanted_ Dean to get jealous when someone looked at him. He wanted Dean to get so possessive that he _could_ kill someone for him.

Wasn't Dean already that protective anyway? The only difference was that Sam didn't want him to be that way because he was looking out for his kid brother. He wanted him to be that way because he was defending what was his.

A shiver shook through him as he imagined all the force that was Dean Winchester focused so completely on him as a sexual partner.

Maybe he was a little bit messed up to. Until this very moment he hadn't realized that he'd wanted that in his life. Now he just had to find a way to convince his brother of that.

-

After getting ready for the day, he went on a mission to find Dean. A lot of the times, Dean left to do things that he didn’t tell Sam about, so he’d be lucky if he found him. He searched the entire compound with no luck. It seemed that confronting Dean would have to wait. He was a little disappointed. He’d pumped himself up for this big conversation and Dean was no where to be found.

Sighing in resignation, he went to the library and started working on Fisher’s journal some more. He’d found another unsolved case that interested him. Luckily it wasn’t as time sensitive as the Texas case so he could work on it a little slower.

By the time he heard movement in the bunker, he’d already had several books opened neatly on the table. He looked to the top of the stairs as Dean entered, anxious all of a sudden. He’d had many hours to think and was starting to second guess himself. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to pursue this. Clearly Dean didn’t want it and he didn’t want to force him. This was true, but he just knew that they had so much potential. Bolstering his resolve, he looked up to Dean as he climbed down the stairs in a measured and subdued pace.

“Hey,” Dean greeted as he crossed the distance of the war room and made his way into the library.

“Hey,” Sam answered, tracking Dean’s movement. He was trying to come up with both the will and a way to introduce the topic again.

“Want a beer?” Dean called over his shoulder continuing to walk right out of the room. He was headed to the kitchen it seemed.

“Sure,” Sam called, stretching his stiff muscles. Dean was probably hoping they wouldn't have to talk about last night. Maybe thinking that because he had said his piece on the subject it would be done. But if he really thought that, he would soon know better.

Before long, Dean came back into the room. He placed one of the two bottles in his hands in front of Sam. Carefully moving some of the books out of the way to make room for himself, Dean took the seat opposite. He gave Sam such a determined look that immediately he knew he was wrong. Dean wasn’t going to run away from this. He was going to face it head on.

Straightening in the seat, Sam turned to face his brother. The books in front of him forgotten in the face of Dean’s determined stare. “I know you’re going to hound me about this so let’s have at it” Dean started.

“I want everything you said last night.” Sam said in a rushed breath. He didn’t see any reason to beat around the bush. If Dean was going to come at it directly then he would do the same. He didn’t want to have any miscommunication or misunderstandings between them.

“I’ve thought about it a lot Dean. I mean a lot,” he stressed significantly. “And I just can’t seem to think that it’s a bad thing.”

“Sam...” he started.

“No. Hear me out alright?” He leaned forward, resting both arms on the table. “We’ve been together for a long time. Basically all our time on Earth. When I was younger, I won’t deny that I hated how much you pushed and pushed. I wanted to be my own person and you have such a strong personality so I fought you a lot but Dean, don’t you see! You’ve never stopped me from doing the things I wanted. You've _never_ not given me what I wanted.”

He leaned back in the chair, spreading his legs out. “If anything it’s the opposite. You go out of your way to give me what I want. Even if it’s the wrong thing. Sometimes I’m worried that you can’t say no to me.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I told you, Sam. You aren’t forcing me to do anything.” This he said exasperatedly.

“I follow you because I want to. Not because I don’t feel like I have a choice. I chose you and I trust you. You would never try to make me do what I didn’t want to do and its not like you would attack me. So if what you’re offering is that you’d want to focus on me more, how could I say no? I told you before, you’re like Superman to me and having that kind of person's attention on me is thrilling and exciting and I want it.”

“You realize that you’re asking for a sexual relationship right? I just want to make sure we understand each other here,” Dean asked sitting back into his chair.

“Yes I know what I’m asking for.” Sam frowned slightly in annoyance. Dean was acting like Sam was a slow child who didn’t understand a basic concept.

“I don’t think you do Sam. Are you willing to be naked in the same room? Sex involves a lot of touching. You’re saying you’d be willing to let me fuck you? What about blowjobs? Kissing? You’d be willing to do that?” Sam knew that Dean was trying to shock him by being so graphic but he was missing the mark so completely. Image after image swirled in his mind with every word his brother said and he could feel himself responding to the visuals.

“Yes,” he said in a voice roughened with arousal. He looked down in embarrassment, clearing his throat. “I know you think it’s wrong Dean, but you can’t say anything that I haven’t thought about doing with you already. I want this Dean. I’ve done nothing but think about it for the last little while.”

“You said that if you did this, you’d never let me go. Like you thought that I wanted to leave, but I’m not the one who’s been doing the leaving lately Dean. I told you. I came to terms with us a long time ago. Granted I wasn’t thinking about us like I am now, but I already knew that I would never want to be anywhere but here with you. I don’t know why you got it stuck in your head that I want to leave, but I don’t.”

“You still have the chance though. Quit the life, start a family.” Dean insisted imploringly. Sam could see that he was trying so hard to get him to see his point but it’s not what he wanted.

“Are you trying to kick me out or something? I’m telling you. I don’t want that.”

“Since when? You’ve always wanted the white picket fence and 2.3 kids.”

“No Dean,” He said frustratedly, heaving a huge sigh for emphasis. “Actually I never did.”

Dean’s look was so disbelieving it was almost comical.

“What I always wanted was to be a hunter. I wanted to grow up so that I could take Dad’s place as your partner. I only started to plan my “normal life” because dad kept telling me no. It was just a thing I tried convincing myself I wanted because I wanted to have some control over my life. But I said it so much that I started to believe it after a while. If I truly wanted that life I could have had it. The night you came to get me. You admitted that you didn’t really need me to go with you. You said you just wanted my company. If I was so insistent of having that life, why would I still go if I knew you didn’t need me? I went because more than the gorgeous woman in my bed, I wanted to go out hunting with you.

“Same thing with Amelia. I could have had her easily but I left her the moment you showed up. The truth is that if I really wanted a white picket fence, I could have had it at anytime. Nothing was forcing me to stay here hunting. I _wanted_ to.”

“I just don’t want you to get fixated on this Sammy. You have options. No one would blame you for not choosing to spend the rest of your life with your brother. You can still find a wife, get out of the life and be happy. Meet someone, fall in love.”

“It’s like you’re not hearing a word I’m saying.” He was getting a little angry at Dean’s obstinate demeanor. He sat up and crossed his arms against his chest. “Fine. Since we’re baring it all. The truth is that I am not the kind of person who can just 'fall in love'." He made air quotes as he said this. "I can’t even do casual and jump into bed with a stranger like you do. I used to wonder why I was like this. Most guys can just fall into bed with the first hot woman they see but sex never felt fulfilling unless I was emotionally invested in the relationship. With the way our lives are, I don’t think I could ever, in good conscience get someone else involved. Plus,” he said wryly. “It’s a little hard to build a life with someone else when you’re more important to me. You know that if something were to happen I’d leave them in a heart beat and I don’t know a woman on this planet who would be okay with being second best to my brother.”

“Wait a minute,” Sam paused consideringly. “You’re surprisingly okay with this. More so than I thought before. It’s starting to feel like you were the one who told me you wanted this.” He paused for another moment thinking. “Have you thought about this before?” he asked incredibly, narrowing his eyes like he was trying to probe Dean’s innermost thoughts.

“Of course not,” Dean scoffed. “You’re my brother. It’s just that now that I _have_ thought about it, it doesn’t seem impossible.” He shrugged carelessly but Sam knew better.

“You’re saying you don’t think it would be hard to have sex with me. You remember that I am a man right?” Sam just wanted to make sure he had all the facts. That’s all.

Dean ran a harassed hand back and forth through his short hair as he frowned. “It’s not about you being male or female. It’s about it being you. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s just you.”

“So then if you don’t have a problem with it and I want it, why can’t we?” He didn’t even know why they were having this conversation if they were both okay with this.

“I stand by what I said Sam.” He looked down at his hands resting on the table “I’m afraid of what I’d become if I let myself go there.”

“But I want that Dean,” he said softly, beseechingly, as he tried to catch Dean’s eyes. He didn’t know how else he could let Dean know that he was serious.

“It’s not about you wanting it Sam. It’s about me. I don’t want to become that person.”

“You won’t. I know you. You won’t,” he insisted but he could already tell that he hadn’t reached him.

“I can’t,” Dean said and got up, leaving his beer bottle full.

Sam sighed in frustration as he listened to Dean’s retreating footsteps. He hadn’t gotten quite what he wanted but he’d gotten something at least. It seemed that Dean feared that he’d lose control of himself if he let himself give in to Sam.

He knew that that wouldn’t be the case. There was no world where Dean would stop being Dean just because they were having sex. Besides he just didn’t see how Dean wanting to dote on him more was a bad thing.

He sighed again staring into space as he tried to come up with a solution.

-

He woke up with the insane urge to pee. Groaning in frustration, he made a move to get up and felt the heat of Dean’s arms around him. Pausing, he relaxed his body back into the heat behind him. He let out a sound of deep satisfaction and just luxuriated in the feeling of being held for a moment. It had been several days since he’d enjoyed this.

Eventually the insistent need from his bladder forced him to move however. He gently pried Dean’s arm off him and made his way to the washroom blindly. The cold floors did much to get him there and back quickly.

He stood at the foot of the bed looking at his brother for a moment. Although they’d gone to bed with their backs to each other, Dean was facing his side now. He looked loose and comfortable in his sleep.

Climbing back into the bed, Sam got under the covers and moved around trying to get comfortable. He kind of wanted to be in Dean’s arms again. It had been several days and he missed that feeling. But in his absence Dean had moved a bit, making that difficult. He quickly glanced over his shoulders to make sure Dean was still sleeping. He then gingerly lifted his brother’s sleep heavy arm back over him and slid in as lightly into his hold as he could without waking him.

He hadn’t expected the rush of excitement this caused. He moved again, wiggling his big body until he could get as close as he could, not quite touching. Tiny tremors raked his body as he thought of how daring this was. He moved a little again, trying to get his ass flush against Dean’s front, only to freeze when he felt Dean’s hand move then tighten around him. “Stop it unless you want me to send you back to your room,” Dean’s sleepy voice growled near his ear. He shivered at the command in his brother’s voice but did as he was told. Not long after, Dean moved, pulling Sam as flush against him as he’d wanted.

“Dean,” he moaned on a trembling voice as shockwaves lit up his spine. He couldn’t remember a time he’d gotten so hard so fast.

“Sleep,” Dean said, rubbing his face against Sam’s neck.

“I don’t think I can,” he whispered weakly.

“Just relax,” Dean said tiredly, pushing one hand under Sam’s shirt to rest against his tight stomach. He sighed a little, ruffling the hairs on the back of Sam’s neck.

“I can’t,” Sam insisted. A massive shiver shook his frame. He arched his back a little, pulling away while forcing his ass tighter into the crook of Dean’s crotch. “Dean...” he moaned again.

“Do you want me to let you go?” Dean asked softly like he was sorry for teasing Sam.

“No. I’m fine. Just took me by surprise,” he half lied

“Alright,” Dean sighed sleepily, pulling Sam back close to him, running his hands up and down his chest a few times before settling finally against his heart. Dean made a sound of contentment before tightening his arms around Sam briefly and weaving their feet together.

Before long, Sam could hear the even breaths as Dean fell back asleep. He didn’t think it was going to be that easy for him. He seriously considered just pulling his pants down and jerking off but Dean really would kill him.

It felt like a long time before he was able to relax enough to finally fall back asleep.

-

He woke up late the next day. Feeling determined, he went in search of Dean. More than ever he wanted this to be a real thing between them and he was convinced that Dean would go for it too.

He found him in the garage. He was working on some of the other cars they had stored there.

Dean turned around and made a sound of annoyance when he saw the look on Sam’s face. “Sam. Come on. Lay off it already.”

“I can’t Dean,” he said standing near him. “I can’t because I know that we could have a good thing going. You’re worried that you might not like the person you become but I know you Dean. You wouldn't become any different than you are right now. Besides, what makes you think I wouldn’t become just as greedy for your attention?” He caught Dean’s eye. “We can have this. After everything we’ve sacrificed. We can have this. Please,” he pleaded.

“Sam...”

He could see the no on Dean’s lips, so thinking quick he said, “How about if we tried it out for a week. You’d see that you wouldn’t be any different and I’d show you just how much I was okay with this.”

“I’m not having sex with you on a dare. Besides you can’t go back from that.”

“We don’t have to have sex. That can wait. Besides I already know how that will go. But we can do everything else. I’ll be yours completely for one week. Think about it please then let me know. That’s all I’m saying. I won’t mention it again until you give me your answer. Just think about it okay?”

“Sam...” Dean started.

“I’m done. I promise,” he raised his hands in surrender. True to his word, he shifted gears. He leaned his hips against one of the cars. “I was thinking we could have a movie marathon tonight. What do you say? Beer, nachos and TV?” This was also a peace offering.

Dean would need time to think about what he’d said. Sam was giving him space.

-

Later that night, Dean surprised him by saying, “One week,” as Sam was about to fall asleep. “We will try this thing out for one week but if it gets to be too much I am pulling the plug.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm running out of songs that might work as titles so if you know some cool songs that have that discordant undertone or that fits the Sam of this story I'd be happy to know about it ;_; -is desperate-


	16. All That's Left Is You and Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... This was supposed to be the end of the last chapter but it was taking too long to edit it and my brain had stopping working so I figured I'd just make it the start of the next but that's turning out that it will take me some time to finish so I figure a mini chapter is better than none right?
> 
> Where Do We Go From Here - Ruelle

_Later that night, Dean surprised him by saying, “One week,” as Sam was about to fall asleep. “We will try this thing out for one week but if it gets to be too much I am pulling the plug.”_

\--

 _Well so much for sleeping_ , he thought. Sam was now wide awake. “You’re serious,” he said into his pillow, before turning around to face Dean. The bed creaked softly in the quiet room with his movement. “You’re really going to try this out.” He couldn’t keep the disbelief out of his tone. He had expected Dean to take more than a few hours to think about it. “What made you change your mind? You were pretty sure this wasn’t going to work before.”

He knew that he was basically shooting himself in the foot by voicing these objections but the thing was that he wanted to know that Dean was really thinking about this. This about face was suspicious and his brother didn’t usually give in this quickly. Either Dean was going to do deliberate things that he knew Sam would hate to prove his point or he was not going to take the whole thing seriously at all.

“I’m not gonna lie. It’s not gonna be easy. You’re my kid brother and I’ve always felt like I had to protect you. This feels like I’m going against that but you seem pretty sure that you want this. So I’m going to try my best to give it to you. You were right that we have sacrificed a lot and if this is what it takes to make you happy, then it’s the least I can do to at least try right?”

Dean was lying on his back with his hands under his pillow. He hadn’t looked at Sam yet. Preferring to stare at the dark ceiling instead.

“You sound like you’re only doing it because I want it though. That’s not what I want Dean. I know I’m being selfish. I know that,” he stressed helplessly. “But I want you to want this with me,” he slid his hands under his head, knees bend slightly as he looked at his brother’s silhouette in the dark.

“I’m not gonna be able to be right there with you right away Sam,” He said pointedly. “In my head I’ve been your protector and defender for a while. It’s what I’m used to. It’s gonna take me some time to get used to _be_ _ing_ more. If it were anyone else it wouldn’t be so hard to make the switch. I wouldn’t have to worry about scaring them since I’m pretty sure I already gave most of my affection to you a long time ago. Like you said, I can be a bit intense. But with you-” he paused consideringly for a moment before taking a deep breath. Then he started again “Let’s say my attention was the very last pie. Everything that I cared about was in that pie and over time I gave most of it to you until I had just one piece left.

“I love pie Sammy. A lot,” He said so passionately Sam wasn’t sure if he should be jealous or not. “But I still gave you almost all of it. That one piece I have is all the caring I have left to give anyone else. I’ve held on to this slice for a while now. Being able to choose if I want to give it away or not helped me to _not_ focus on the other ninety percent you were holding.

“If we do this, it would be like I’m giving you my last piece of the pie. I won’t have it to shield you anymore, and all of my focus would turn to you.”

Leave it to Dean to use pie to explain how he was feeling. “It sounds like you’re saying that you don’t want this. I don’t want to force you Dean.” At first he’d thought that Dean was worried Sam would lose himself in this but he was starting to think that maybe Dean thought he was the one who would get lost in them.

“No. I’m saying that I’m used to my role in your life you know? It’s harder to add a new one because I won’t be able to go back from it. With all the things we’ve been through, to see you also as a lover would make me even more possessive of you. If I didn’t already care so much it wouldn’t matter. I’d be able to separate myself but because it’s you I’m afraid I might smother you with how greedy I’m sure I’ll become.

“You won’t Dean,” Sam tried to reassure. Dean wanted to give this to him to make him happy yet he thought that there was a world where he would smother him. The two just did not mix. Dean’s life mission to date had been to make him happy so he didn’t see how the latter was possible. More than ever he was sure that they would be amazing together. They were so in sync in every other aspect of their lives. It was impossible to think they’d be anything other than perfect.

“Don’t be so sure. I’ve been thinking about this all day. I know we said nothing sexual but Sammy you’re basically giving me permission to touch you however I want and some of the things I’ve been thinking of doing to you...” he trailed off.

 _Wait wha_ t? He had thought that Dean meant doting on him too much. Could he have been wrong? Had Dean been trying to warn him about wanting adventurous sex all this time?

“Like what?” Sam whispered trying to contain the excitement in his voice. If Dean was thinking of him this way then maybe this could work out after all.

“That’s not the point Sam,” Dean answered a little flustered.

“Well what is?”

“I don’t want you to hate me for the things I’d want from you.” He sounded pained, like the words were forced from him.

He was definitely talking about sex. Sam was so on board with this plan.

“If you told me what you were thinking about then I could tell you if I was okay with it or not.”

“You’re missing my point completely,” Dean said tiredly. “That was an example.”

“Yea but you’re using this phantom scenario to justify why I might possibly, theoretically hate you. Just tell me already. You’ll never know if you keep it to yourself. Besides-”

“Alright!” Dean said frustratedly. “You always have a smartass answer for everything. Fine. How about you on your knees and that busy mouth of yours stuffed full with my cock. I’d keep you there for hours so the only sounds you could make were choked off moans.”

Immediately the carnal image burst to life in Sam’s mind depicting Dean’s filthy words and his back arched on a tremor. “Fuck...” he moaned in surprise at the force of his reaction. That was so similar to the fantasy he’d had a few days ago. To hear those words coming from Dean made it so much dirtier. “Dean. I definitely want to do that,” his hands crept down to absently rub along his already half hard cock.

“Nope!” Dean said as he tracked Sam’s hand. He quickly sat up in the bed. “Let’s stop right there. I’m done.” His legs were already over the bed like he was going to get up. Without thinking Sam reached out to grab his forearm, pausing Dean’s movement.

“Dean. Please. I’m sorry but you can’t say something like that and expect me to not react.” He kind of wanted Dean to come back in the bed. Maybe force him to do what he’d said. “Come on. Don’t leave.”

“I’ll take the couch,” Dean insisted.

“Why?”

“Why? You’re kidding right? You’re lying in my bed touching yourself and moaning like a dirty fantasy at the thought of blowing me! Sam, we said no sex. If I stay here I’m pretty sure I’ll break the rules and take you up on that offer. In fact, fuck it. I don’t need the temptation. I’ll sleep in your room tonight.” He got up, Sam’s arm falling away, and left the room quietly.

Sam watched him leave in a daze. He mind was reeling at the revelation that Dean actually wanted him back. He replayed the last few minutes of their conversation over and Dean’s words hit him like a sledge hammer of want. He was definitely not going to be able to sleep without coming first. Not after that.

He clumsily yanked his pants down, moaning with anticipation at how good that first bare touch would feel. As soon as he was free, he roughly palmed himself, impatient to get started as he imagined the scene Dean had described. His mouth would be a warm, wet, tight cavern for Dean’s cock, choking on it but hungry and desperate for more. He groaned shamelessly into the pillow as with barely a few quick strokes, he was coming so hard he saw stars.

He’d change the sheets in the morning, he thought as he smiled sleepily. Things were looking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but hopefully sweet. Let me know what you thought :)


	17. I Give In So Easily Cause I'm Weak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off thank you for all your amazing comments and kudos. It's ridiculously encouraging. I also appreciate all the song suggestions. I've already picked several n the groups that will work for some chapters that are coming.  
> The boys have reach the exploration stage so there's going to be some sexual content coming up. Like I said in the beginning, I like escalation so they won't go from 0 - 100 but it will be significant.  
> Hopefully you like this chapter. Hit me up in the comments to let me know what you thought or if you just wanna talk about Supernatural :)
> 
> Weak - AJR

He felt good. That was the first thing he noticed as soon as he woke up. He was pretty sure he hadn't gotten enough sleep. It felt early. And yet... he felt good. Head still laying on the pillow, he reached blindly for his phone. He wasn't ready to open his eyes yet. After a few failed attempts, he finally felt his fingers land on its smooth surface. He made a sound of triumph before lifting his neck at an awkward angle. His hair almost blinding him as he flicked the screen on. He quickly checked the time before letting his heavy head flop back onto the pillow with relief.

 _4_ _am_.

He was alone in the room still, which meant that Dean was, at this moment asleep in his bed. He smiled a little as he recalled the events of the previous night which led to Dean’s hasty retreat. Rolling onto his back, he stretched lazily, arching his back off the bed, before getting up and starting to strip the sheets off. It was kind of early to be up but he wanted to get rid of any evidence before Dean returned.

Usually they traded on chores and Sam had already done the last round of laundry, but he had reason to want to make sure that he was the one to do it this time as well. Dean was really weird about his stuff sometimes and with the way things were going, he didn’t want to do anything that could in anyway stop or halt their progress. Dean being angry at him would do that.

After remaking the bed, he ambled along leisurely toward the laundry room, sheets and such in hand. He could feel the giant grin trying to split his face but he couldn’t seem to curb the action. More than that, he really didn’t want to. He felt good.

A few loose ends of the sheets tangled around his feet causing him to pause and readjust his hold before continuing on. Last night had been so intense. They’d barely done anything really but just the fact that Dean had acknowledged this thing between them in such a specific way was enough to fill him with hope and anticipation, not to mention excitement.

His toes curled involuntarily as soon as he stepped into the room. Ignoring the cold floors, he dropped the sheets in the basket near the door and started sorting them loosely into the drum. Dean left before things could get really interesting but he was more than looking forward to talking to him a little bit more. Their new open communication rule made him feel confident and secure in the answers he would get. Not that he wouldn’t have asked without the rules. Now though, he knew the answers he got, wouldn’t be lies or bullshit and that was the difference maker. He didn’t have to second guess and assume anymore.

He had so many questions running rampant through his mind and he was almost tempted to say screw it and wake Dean up, demand his attention. The only problem was that Dean was extremely grouchy when woken suddenly and he didn’t want to risk staring down the barrel of a gun or getting a broken nose. He wasn’t apposed to a little tussle though. He imagined Dean grabbing him instinctively and holding him forcefully under him, their bodies pressed tight up against the other. He shook his head slightly to clear the thought. Yeah, he wouldn’t mind that at all. But he didn’t want to risk the alternate scenarios. He would have to exercise patience. Maybe he could get breakfast started in the meantime. It wouldn’t be long before his brother woke up anyway.

He left as the machine started to thrum and fill and walked back into Dean’s room. He grabbed a towel and headed for a quick shower. He knew that it was one of Dean’s but he didn’t think that his brother would mind much. He wilfully ignored the more obvious reason why he wanted to use that towel instead of getting a new one from their linen closet.

He padded back down the hall towards the bathrooms. The building was so silent. It still amazed him that they got to live in this place. If someone had told him twelve years ago all the things he would end up doing and places he would end up going, he would not have believed them. He chuckled softly as he turned on the lights in the bathroom. He walked over to the sink to brush his teeth before stepping into the shower stall.

-

He could feel the water droplets as they cooled, pebbling his nipples and raising goose bumps on his skin. He held on to the towel loosely at his waist as he stood outside his bedroom door. He had hoped to not disturb Dean while he was sleeping but he’d forgotten about clothing after his shower. He could go in there and get some clothing and risk dealing with a grouchy Dean or he could borrow some of his brother’s temporarily. While he kind of liked the idea of wearing Dean’s clothes, he knew that to do that might present some problems. No matter how much he disliked it, he was bigger than Dean so his clothing, while it might fit, might look awkward or feel uncomfortable and it was a little strange to wear some one else’s clothing without their permission.

There wasn’t much option. He couldn’t parade around the bunker in a towel until Dean woke up. It was cool in here and he was naked, vulnerable. Sighing, he mustered up his resolve and quietly opened the door. It wasn’t a big deal. He’d just be in and out.

There was a soft glow in the room cast by his laptop. He’d forgotten to turn it off when he brought it in there yesterday. The Search the Web page’s off white colour settled over the bed, highlighting Dean’s sleeping frame. He’d kicked the covers off at some point and had one leg bent and both arms clutching the pillow under his head.

The door closed behind him with a silent click. He stood where he was, almost frozen taking in his brother. His eyes swept over him greedily, from the light dusting of hair on his legs, the black boxer briefs that he favoured to the soft and crumpled cotton t-shirt. Sam couldn’t help thinking he looked good in his bed. He thought that maybe the picture would look even better if he was also in the bed tangled up with Dean.

He smiled wryly at the path his thoughts kept taking. He didn’t know how he’d ever _not_ been attracted to Dean. It was just so _there_. So present and under his skin, like it had always lived there with him. He turned around and started pulling clothing out clothing for the day. As he was closing the last drawer, he heard, “Sam?” in a sleepy, gravely voice that caused him to jump and drop what he was holding. In his attempt to save his clothing, the already loose towel slipped from its hold and he fumbled to make the save unsuccessfully. He felt the abrasive fabric brush along his skin as it fluttered through his grasp and slid down his legs heavily, leaving him bare.

“Putting on a show?” Dean asked with a bit of a leer.

“You couldn’t afford it,” Sam groused as he gave up on picking up the fallen items to quickly step into his underwear. He turned around to find that Dean was sitting up against the headboard in sort of a lazy sprawl, ogling him shamelessly.

 _Hmm_ _m,_ _so last night_ _really_ _wasn’t a fluke then_ , he thought as Dean openly stared at his body. He hadn’t doubted but the confirmation was appreciated. He kind of wanted to preen a little under the new attention. It was like, now that Dean had allowed himself to see him, he wasn’t going to hold back and Sam felt a little giddy in this new reality.

“You do realize that you’re implying that you’re a hooker right?” Dean said, scrunching his face judgingly and scratching at the light dusting of shadow at his jaw. “Besides, I don’t need to pay for it. Do you see all this?” He pointed at himself almost ironically. “Can’t keep em away,” before giving Sam a huge grin.

“Use a stick. I hear that works,” Sam said annoyed, as he picked up his pants, shaking it out. Despite his teasing, he couldn’t really disagree because, joking or not, Dean _was_ an attractive man. He’d subconsciously known it all his life. He had seen how women threw themselves at him, how all he had to do was smile to get out of or into trouble. So he did know, but brothers weren’t supposed to notice that about each other so he’d chosen to _not_ see it. Now though, that was getting harder and harder to do. It was like there was this mixing in his head that said, ‘brother’ and ‘I’d like to hit that’, but it didn’t feel wrong. Not even a little bit. He still felt brotherly affection as strongly as ever but he also kind of wanted to be naked together. He stared at the floor contemplatively for a moment.

“Come here Sam,” Dean’s deep voice penetrated his thoughts instantly. Lifting his head to look at his brother, his heart started to pound at the serious expression on his face.

“Dean?” He asked unsure. This was new territory for him and he admittedly didn’t know how to act from there.

“Come here Sammy,” Dean said again. He kept his eyes locked with Sam but he wasn’t giving anything away. Sam felt trapped by the intensity of that gaze. Dropping the pants absently, he started moving towards Dean before he was even conscious of making the decision. He could hear the thundering of his heart, feel the worry as his breath sped up, but he felt drawn towards Dean, like a magnet.

He climbed onto the bed almost clumsily as Dean made room for him. Before he’d even finished putting both limbs on the mattress, Dean’s arms closed around him tightly, pulling him in impatiently and maneuvering him into a position so that he could hold Sam against his frame. It was touch and go there for a second. Sam hadn’t been expecting the move and his long limbs ended up splayed awkwardly. They looked at each other for a pause before both bursting into laughter. “Forget Sasquatch. It’s Bambi from now on,” Dean said with affection.

The levity was short lived because Dean was a man on a mission. He wasn’t even pretending to leave any space between them anymore. The atmosphere in the room seemed to change all of a sudden. Sam’s smile disappeared as he bit his lower lip slightly in concentration. He could feel the press of Dean’s soft cock against the swell of his ass and as Dean’s arms closed around his practically naked body, he felt flayed, his skin so sensitive to the touch.

“Dean...” he whispered softly, his body undulating against the exquisite torture of sensations roiling through him, every point of contact between them an electric outlet pushing him farther.

He heard Dean take in a deep breath before, “Hmmm, you smell good,” rumbled near his ear, the bass grating against his senses and causing a full body shiver. “Did you use my body wash?” He didn’t wait for Sam to answer before saying. “I like it. You smell like mine right now,” and he rubbed his chin against Sam before settling in even closer.

Sam was struggling so hard not to get excited. This was not supposed to be about sex but he was a very tactile person and Dean was hitting buttons all hit buttons.

“I really missed this last night,” Dean continued as he ran his calloused hands almost unconsciously over Sam’s bare chest. He felt his stomach flutter after a particularly soft touch where the callouses on Dean’s hands, from cleaning their weapons, seemed to scrape against every nerve ending in his body. He felt himself clenching against a delicious wave of heat, unable to hold back the gasp of pleasure that escaped him.

“Fuck Sam, you sound like I’m already fucking you,” Dean groaned against his neck. “I’m barely touching you right now,” He intoned desperately.

Sam could feel it he realised as his excitement grew. He could _feel_ Dean thickening steadily against him. He could feel the distinct outline as it slowly grew and stretched and he remembered that they were both only wearing thin boxer briefs. He ass clenched tightly in expectation and he pushed back against the hardness he was feeling, unthinkingly chasing the pleasure he knew he could have.

Dean shuddered behind him before clamping down on his hip tightly. Sam froze, expecting a reprimand. He hadn’t meant to do that. His body seemed to moved on its own. He cried out in shock however, when instead, Dean’s hand tightened even further before pulling him closer into a dirty grind.

Only to feel disappointed not a few seconds later. “Fuck,” Dean swore in frustration. He pulled away putting a few desperate inches between them. “I shouldn’t have done that. You go straight to my head Sammy,” he whispered grudgingly, breath unsteady.

“You don’t have to stop,” Sam offered hesitantly. He already knew that Dean was not going to give him what he wanted. He sighed and took a few calming breaths, willing his body to stop waiting for something it wasn’t going to get.

“That’s not why I called you here,” he sighed letting Sam go completely. “The truth is... I get a better night’s sleep when you’re next to me. I like it when I can hold you close. Know that you’re safe,” he admitted. “The first night I woke up like that it felt so _right._ ”

Sam turned around so he could see his brother. Dean was now on his back, the leg closest to Sam propped up like a shield. He was still breathing a little hard though so Sam knew that he wasn’t the only one affected.

“I’ve slept beside a few people before Sammy,” Dean confessed unnecessarily. “And I always felt trapped. I couldn’t wait to get away. But this... felt right. I could barely convince myself to let you go.” Dean turned to look at him as he said this.

Sam felt that piercing stare all the way through to his soul. All the nights and mornings he’d agonized over waking up tangled around Dean had been unnecessary. Even before Dean knew about his interest, he’d wanted to be right there. He felt overwhelmed by that knowledge for a second.

“It’s still early and we don’t really have anywhere to be so... wanna spoon?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows suggestively like that was what would get Sam to give in.

Laughing at his outrageous brother, Sam hit him with the pillow lightly before agreeing. They both turned over, this time a little room between them as Dean again wrapped his arm around his chest. “No funny business,” he grumbled exaggeratedly. “I’m not that easy.”

Sam scoffed. “Yea. Right,” his tone heavy with sarcasm but he smiled secretly. Dean really wanted to be there with him. He probably didn’t even realise how much yet. He sighed into the pillow, suddenly feeling drained. He was still a little hard but tiredness was starting to take over. He knew one thing was for sure. When they did have sex, and it wasn’t an if at this point, it would be incendiary.

  



	18. Hurts Like Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kicked my butt. Like it held me at gun point, stole my wallet and beat me up in an alley. This is the best I can do. The words no longer made sense. -sigh-
> 
> Hurts Like Hell - Fleurie

He folded the sheets absently as they came out of the dryer. It had completely slipped his mind that they were still being washed. It was funny how often things slipped his mind when he was around his brother. Dean seemed to take up all the space in his head.

Things were escalating fast between them and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. They'd only agreed to give this thing a try last night and he was already feeling out of his depth around Dean. If it kept up like this, he was pretty sure they wouldn't last the week.

He smiled to himself absently, walking to the linen closet. He definitely wouldn't mind if they could move their relationship a little further along. He already knew that it would work out between them. There wasn't an ounce of doubt in his mind. Dean was the one who seemed to need convincing.

Repositioning the bundle in his arms, he opened the door absently but just stood there, staring at the assorted towels and sheets blankly as his mind drifted. It was so unreal how strongly being touched by Dean made him feel. It was like fire and ice and lightening all battling to take control at once and he was getting weaker against it. He could _feel_ his resolve weakening. Not that he’d started from a place of strength to begin with. He wasn’t sure if he would survive if it kept on like this.

If he was being honest with himself, he had to admit that he didn’t understand why this was happening. His attraction to Dean, that he understood, but he couldn’t figure out why Dean continued to overwhelm him so much. How Dean could have so much power over him.

Sure he preferred to develop a relationship before jumping into bed with someone but he wasn't a virgin by any stretch of the imagination. He'd never, in any of his previous relationships, felt such a lack of control.

They hadn't even done anything really and yet it felt better than any other single experience he'd ever had. He had a sneaking suspicion that everything he was feeling had nothing to do with what they had already done but was because it was Dean. The more he felt for the person he was with, the more attracted he was to them so it made sense that he would lose himself in even the simplest caress from Dean. He’d never cared more for any other person than he did for his brother after all.

Coming back to himself, he put the items away before shutting the door. He wondered where Dean was at that moment. When he'd eventually woken, a little into mid-morning, he was alone in the room. He wouldn't he surprised if Dean was already gone, doing whatever he did in the day. He tried to fight down the disappointment that threatened to overcome him, unsuccessfully. He wanted to talk to him some more. He wanted to know where Dean stood in all this, after what had happened last night and earlier that morning. He’d just have to wait until later.

\--  


He sauntered leisurely down the hallway to the kitchen, only to pause in the doorway when he saw Dean sitting at the table. He was sipping a cup of what he assumed was coffee. He tried his best to ignore the thrill that fluttered within him.

"Morning," he greeted as he went to pour himself some cereal. Dean simply lifted his mug in greeting, eyes closed as he savoured his drink. Sam chuckled softly and shook his head. Dean was barely functional most days without his coffee.

He straddled the seat opposite his brother before taking a quick spoonful. A subtle veil of aftershave, body wash and Dean swirled around him slowly, clouding his mind for a moment. He closed his eyes in contentment, and breathed in his brother's amazing scent. _He must have just come from the shower_ , he thought, taking in Dean's appearance. He'd shaved down to an attractive stubble, and wore a green Henley under a grey jacket that brought out the colour of his eyes. He must have caught Dean on his way out.

"Any big plans today?" Sam asked curiously. He didn't usually make it a habit to pry into his brother's affairs so he wouldn't mind if Dean chose not to tell him. He just wanted to talk to him for a little bit.

"Helping Garth out. He's got a rookie out in Lincoln who's definitely gonna get himself killed."

"Need me to come with? I was just gonna do some more research today but I can change that no problem." He didn't want to leave his brother alone in a possibly dangerous situation. There'd been several times when they'd thought a hunt was going to be easy only to have it throw a curve ball at them.

Dean must have noticed the look of concern on Sam's face because he was quick to reassure. "Nah, it's not a hunt. We're on vacation remember? Today I'm a consultant on monster killing. You know, a killsultant." He looked at Sam expectantly, stupid grin on his face.

Sam rolled his eyes before taking another spoonful of his cereal.

"No?" Dean asked, disappointed that no one could get his true genius. "Well anyway I'm just going over to give the kid a few pointers and knock some sense into him. You know I wouldn't go on a hunt without my wingman."

Sam relaxed incrementally, letting out a deep breath he hadn’t been aware that he was holding. This feeling of constant worry was new to him. He knew for a fact that when they weren't on huge cases, Dean helped out other hunters close by at Garth's request. This had never bothered him before. He knew that Dean was more than capable of handling himself, yet since he’d started having nightmares, the thought of not being with Dean during even a simple hunt left him anxious with fear and concern. This was a troubling development. One he'd have to think on a little bit.

"Alright," Sam said, sitting back into his chair.

"Gonna head out now," he stood up before doing a double take. "Almost forgot," Dean said, almost annoyed at himself, before quickly leaving the room. Sam tracked his movements curiously while continuing to eat his cereal. Dean was all energy this morning.

In no time he was back in the kitchen, book in hand. "Finished this before. Forgot to give it to you," he dropped the book on Japanese magic in front of Sam.

Sam picked it up, quickly riffling through it before smiling up at him in thanks.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean groused trying to deflect some of the embarrassment he felt at seeing the joy on Sam's face. "Don't spend all day reading," he said before pausing. "What am I even saying. You'll probably be at it still when I get back."

"Hey!" Sam said offended. Reading and learning had saved their lives plenty of times.

"I'm kidding. Relax," Dean said before approaching him. Whatever Sam was about to say, froze on his lip in surprise. Dean smiled cheekily before fisting his hands into Sam's hair and pulling him forward slightly to press their foreheads together. He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, and seemed to compose himself before staring into Sam's eyes and saying, "See you later, Bitch." Letting go, he ruffled Sam's hair and quickly jogged away with a chuckle as Sam bat at his hand.

"Later, Jerk," he answered softly as he attempted to fix his hair blindly. He was trying to fight back the emotions attempting to overcome him. He felt like he was drowning. He turned around to watch his brother's retreating back.

It had been a long time since Dean had touched him that freely without the threat of death hanging over them. Until that moment, he hadn't realized just how much he'd missed it.

Even in their most open moments though, Dean had never touched him like that. He’d never touched him in any other way save jokingly really. Much less in a hold brimming with claim. His scalp was still tingling from the touch and self consciously he mimicked it, heat rising up into his face at the feel of his fingers tightening in his hair as his neck stretched slightly with the pain.

He definitely liked the idea of Dean's hands in his hair. His eyes opened slowly before he quickly looked around the room to make sure he was still alone. His face heated some more. It would be his luck for Dean to walk in and catch him like this.

Sighing, he got up to put away his dishes. It was only half way through cleaning the bowl that he remembered that he'd wanted to talk to Dean. _Well it was too late now,_ he sighed and went back to finishing the task.

He picked up the book and walked out to the library before sitting down and starting to read.

-

Sam looked up briefly as the locks at the top of the stairs clunked open mechanically. Dean was back. He clicked on his phone to check the time and his eyebrows rose in surprise at how late it was already. It felt like he'd only just sat down and it was already getting close to late at night.

He stretched his tense muscles on a groan before rubbing absently at the ache in his lower back. He turned to look at his brother when he said from the top of the stairs, "how long you been here?"

He cracked his stiff neck, relieving some of the tension from sitting in the same spot for so long. "Not that long," he offered weakly. They both knew better.

"Uh huh," Dean said dryly before sitting down wearily across from Sam. His eyes kept scanning the neatly organized pages in what Sam hoped was interest. "This is good Sam," he said after reading through one of the sheets he'd picked up. "You already made it this far in."

He put down the sheets to look at Sam with a frown. "When was the last time you ate something?"

Pausing, Sam squeezed at his back absently before looking at Dean across the table. He genuinely couldn't remember. He wasn't even sure if he'd had anything apart from the cereal that morning. His frown matched the one that was forming on Dean's face as he said, "earlier?"

"I figured." Dean clearly interpreted that answer to mean that he hadn’t in a while. With a sigh, he stood up and left the room. No doubt heading to the kitchen to prepare something.

Now that they had mentioned food, Sam was starting to notice that he was actually really hungry so after several minutes of impatient foot tapping, he got up and followed after Dean.

He walked easily into the kitchen as Dean was putting the final touches on what looked like chicken sandwiches. His stomach complained loudly as the scents of meat, cheese and seasonings assaulted his nose. Pressing his hand sharply against the sound in an attempt to curb any others, he grinned and looked at Dean, a little embarrassed. "Guess I _am_ hungry."

"You think?"Dean tried stern, but the corners of his lips kept trying to go up. Eventually he gave up and let the smile spread across his face. "We better feed that think before it attacks."

Sam chuckled as he opened the fridge, pulling two bottles out.

"Come on," Dean gestured with his shoulders. He was carrying two plates, both heaped with sandwiches. "I wanna tell you about today," before heading back to the library.

-

Sam reclaimed his seat from earlier, after making some room for his plate. He arched his back a little before taking a sip from his bottle.

He sighed around the crisp, familiar taste when it hit his tongue. It's funny, he'd hated beer the first few times he'd tried drinking it, but now he couldn't get over how good it was after a long day.

He gulped down half the bottle before putting it on the table with a thud and picking up his sandwich. He was about to take a bite when he felt a heavy gaze on him. He looked across the table to find Dean giving him a considering look.

"What?” he asked, sandwich still in his mouth.

“If you’re that hungry you should eat sooner,” he said taking a sip from his own bottle.

“It really just slipped my mind,” before taking the bite and closing his eyes to savour it.

“It slip-” Dean gave him a scandalized look. “How could it slip- You know what. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know you.”

Sam shrugged as he continued to eat, this time at a more measured pace. He could see Dean getting ready to jump into a lecture so he hurried to cut him off. “I’m eating now. Come on, what did you want to tell me,” and smiled triumphantly has he was able to distract Dean.

“Right,” he grinned. “Garth called this morning. He wanted me to talk to a new ‘recruit’.” He said this with so much sarcasm and annoyance.

‘Hmm?”

“Some dumbass kid. He saw something supernatural and decided he was a hunter. He was making a mess, asking all kinds of stupid questions to the wrong people.” He leaned back into a lazy sprawl and took gulp from his beer bottle. “I spent all day talking the stupid out of him and showing him how to get away with murder. Properly.”

“Dean!” Sam sputtered.

“Relax. I’m kidding. You can’t deny that hunting involves all the murder though,” he mumbled under his breath. “Anyway we spent the day at his house. He asked a lot of questions. Some of them were a little weird but whatever. He even pulled out a notebook and started taking notes. It was hilarious but it got me thinking. We’re not gonna be doing this forever right? We’re not getting any younger. I’m pretty sure I saw a grey strand in your hair this morning,” he paused contemplatively.

“Hey! I do not have grey hair.” He ran his hand through his hair self consciously.

“Oh you do, but it looks good on you,” he assured confidently. “When we retire. I’m not saying anytime soon or anything, but when we do, we could start up some kind of supernatural consulting. Help out the new generations of hunters so they don’t make the same mistakes we made.” All of a sudden, this quiet seriousness enveloped them. Dean sat up and stared into Sam’s eyes as he spoke quietly. “The idea kept growing on the drive back and the more I thought about it, the more I liked it. I mean we have the tools, skills, experience and the knowledge. Instead of going out blaze of glory style, why not leave a more lasting legacy? I can’t think of anything better. Anyway it’s just something I was thinking about.”

While Dean was talking, Sam had stopped eating. Despite what he’d said, if Dean was bringing it up, even in passing, it meant that it was something he’d been thinking about for a while. He hadn’t known that Dean had even been considering retiring. The plan had always been blaze of glory, go down swinging and he’d been fine with that. He’d always figured at some point one lucky monster would finally get one of them for good and the other would follow. They’d even acknowledged this. He wondered when Dean had started thinking about a different future for them.

He adjusted a little in the seat, the hard surface sending mild shots of pain up his spine before he found a slightly more comfortable position. He could feel the frown on his face. They were actually lucky to have made it this far. They’d been hunting for almost thirteen years now and the list of friends and loved ones who’d not made it was too long to not hurt. So it made sense to assume their names would eventually make it on that list too. Sam and Dean Winchester, killed by insert monster here. But it was sounding like the plan had changed. If that was the case, then where did that leave them?

He had made it clear what his position was. He’d wanted to spend as much time as he could with his brother until their time was up. He wanted whatever time they had left to experience a more intimate relationship with the knowledge always present that it could all be taken away in an instant, but if Dean was voicing this, then more than likely he was making plans. So did that mean then that any chance of deepening their relationship would disappear?

It was only possible to convince Dean to see him differently _because_ of the uncertainty of their everyday lives. Because of their desperate need to protect and save each other. The feelings they had for each other, brotherly love or more was only so strong because of its seeming fleetingness. Dean _cou_ _l_ _d_ only consider crossing that line if he thought that he might lose Sam, but if they weren’t in danger anymore, if they were safe here in this protected stronghold, then he might lose his chance. If he was safe all the time, maybe Dean might even stop feeling so desperate to keep him around and really ask him to leave. The pain in his heart at that thought took him by surprise and he bowed his head quickly as he tried to compose himself. He didn’t want to know what expression he was showing right now.

“Sam?” Dean asked worriedly. “It’s just an idea man. We don’t have to do it,” He ran an agitated hand over his short hair a few times as he frowned questioningly. “We’re partners right? You don’t like sometime, we don’t do it.”

Sam was right. Dean had said it was just an idea but he had been secretly thinking of it seriously. This was clearly endgame for him. “What about us?” He asked, head still bowed.

“What?”

“Us Dean,” He said looking his brother in the eye. “Where do we fit in, in this new plan?”

“What do you mean Sammy? The same way we always have. You and me, together.”

Sam could feel his jaw clenching. He didn’t know why he was getting so upset. Maybe because it felt like losing. Nothing had changed. Dean still couldn’t see him as anything but his kid brother. While Sam had been hoping the one week trial would lead to something more permanent, Dean had simply been humouring him. He had no intention of letting this go further than that. Sam couldn’t really fault him though. He’d forced the issue all on his own, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt.

“And what if I wanted more than just brothers. What if I wanted more?” He looked at Dean pleadingly. “I’m sorry I keep pushing about this. I know I should stop. It’s just that I can see us being so good together Dean. Even more than we are now. Especially if you’re planning on retiring.” He bowed his head again, letting his hair fall forward like a curtain.

Dean frowned at him slightly, “That’s okay. I told you I’m alright with it. We just gotta keep it PG for now until I get more comfortable.”

Sam lifts his head. “Even if we kept it PG like you said, it wouldn't stop things from being intense between us. As we are, even a simple touch can feel like we’re doing something more. Is there another reason you don’t want to let this go any further?”

“Maybe you’re right Sammy. Maybe I’m just scared alright. What if I give in to this and you change your mind? I know you said you wouldn’t but you have in the past. Maybe I’m just trying to protect myself. Who knows, but a week isn’t that long. So you can hold out can’t you? It was your suggestion anyway. Maybe I need that week to convince myself that you won’t change your mind. The truth is while I was thinking about this idea, I wasn’t thinking of us as brothers but more as partners. I don’t know what that means but I know it means something at least.” He slouched a little in the chair and groaned in frustration. “I just need you to give me some time.”

“Alright Dean. I understand,” and he did understand but that didn’t stop it from hurting. Dean was saying that somewhere deep down in him, he still didn’t trust him fully. Sam had done that to Dean and he would always be sorry. At least Dean was willing to still try and for that he was grateful. All he could do was try and prove himself with his actions. He sat back in the chair, ignoring the twinge in his back. “I’ll try to give you some space and cool off on the sexual stuff. I’ll respect your wishes.”

“It’s not your fault I’m irresistible,” Dean teased trying to lighten the mood.

“And yet every time you open your mouth I build up immunity. Keep talking,” he suggested as he picked up the forgotten sandwich and took another bite. “I like the idea of consulting though. Or even opening a school maybe?”

Dean smiled quietly. Sam continued to eat his sandwich as Dean went into more detail about his idea.

\--

Sam looked up from the page he’d been writing on to see Dean frowning down at him. He’d finished his sandwich over an hour ago and had been taking notes quietly for awhile now. They’d talked about Dean’s idea some more until the conversation had naturally turned to the book Sam was documenting and before he knew it he was sucked back into all the information buried within while Dean quietly read the notes he’d already made. He was so engrossed in it that he didn’t even notice when Dean got up.

“Huh?” he said distractedly rubbing at the deep ache in his back. They really needed to invest in better chairs for the library. As his awareness of his surroundings sharpened, the intense look in Dean’s eyes registered and any hope he’d had of refocusing on the book fell away to that look.

‘You’re done,” Dean said with finality. “Up,” he ordered and Sam blindly obeyed, lost as he was in his brother’s gaze. The legs of the chair scraped loudly in the sudden silence as Sam scrambled to his feet, hands on the table. He felt disoriented for a moment, unsure what was going on.

Clicking his tongue impatiently, Dean grabbed his hand and frog marched his dazed brother to their room. Sam stumbled behind him in his rush to keep up. “Dean? What’s going?” He asked the determined back of his brother only to be met with silence.

Dean entered the room, flicking the light on before sitting on the couch and pulling Sam down into his lap. Sam, for his part, fumbled a little before he was able to comfortably straddle Dean, knees bent on either side of him. He looked into his brother’s eyes to find that the stormy clouds had given way to deep satisfaction. Clearly Dean had him where he wanted him. Sam’s heart stuttered then redoubled its efforts by drumming against his chest in anticipation.

He took a calming breath, trying to remind himself that nothing was going to happen. He’d promised to stop rushing into things on his own not even two hours ago, so even though he was sitting in Dean’s lap right now, he wasn’t going to lose his head.

That decided, he ran one hand through his hair in an attempt to order the strands that had fallen over his face and said again, “Dean, what is going on?”

Dean sat back into a comfortable slouch as he adjusted Sam in his lap until he was happy with the results. His head rested languidly on the back of the couch. The mysterious depths of his eyes half masted as he stared intently at Sam. It felt like ownership when he ran lazy hands up and down Sam’s thighs, before settling his large palms high on his hips. He took a deep contented breath, his chest expanding slowly, before tightening his hands on Sam briefly, almost bruisingly.

Through all this, Sam said nothing. He could feel the subtle change in the space between them, heightening his awareness, but he refused to let himself get carried away, even though the proprietary touches were really doing it for him. He clamped down on the waves of sensation that threatened to race through his body. He ignored how aware he was of Dean’s hands, how both thumbs were pressing heat, scorching the skin high on his inner thighs. He even ignored the almost overwhelming need he had to move his ass in closer, tighter, bring things up a notch.

“Dean,” he tried for a joking tone to ease the mounting tension. “If you wanted a lap da...” he came to a stumbling halt when Dean, still laying back against the couch, placed one finger to his lips, silencing him. His hooded eyes felt like lasers pinning him down, unreadable but no less piercing in their attention.

“You’re very focused, Sam. I’ve always admired that about you. Even when we were kids. I think we’re alive today _because_ of how hard you pour yourself into whatever you’re doing. But Sammy, I can’t stand by and watch this anymore. You don’t take care of yourself. You stay up at all hours, you don’t eat and you put yourself in unnecessary pain even when it’s not urgent. I’m supposed to be the reckless one, remember?” His words, though quiet, felt like a punch of earnestness to his gut. Dean’s hands started crawling up Sam’s body, sliding under his shirt to settle on his waist with purpose.

“Dean...” Sam warned weakly.

“I’ll behave,” he promised, sitting up on the chair and pulling Sam closer into a loose full body hug. He rubbed his stubbled cheek against Sam’s, rumbling with contentment. “I never said anything, Sam, because you’re your own person and you can make your own decisions but sometimes the decisions you make are wrong. Like tonight. You sat in that chair for hours even though it was clearly causing you pain. You want to get through the book. I get that, but it’s not urgent. Sometimes you gotta take care of yourself too. Or at least let me take care of you.” His hands were no longer idle. Instead, running sweeping strokes along his back, like he couldn’t help but to touch the naked expanse of skin at his disposal. “You want to know what I would do if this was real? Sammy if you were mine, I’d want to make sure you never hurt like that ever. I can’t stop thinking how all I want right now is give you a full body rub down and get you off but we can’t so we’re going to have to settle for a back rub.”

Sam trembled minutely as Dean murmured the words into his ear. He chuckled nervously. “I’m not gonna be able to keep this PG if I have to keep sitting in your lap and listen to you say these things while you touch me.” He squirmed a little as he tried to put some space between their lower bodies. He could feel himself stiffening in his sweatpants the more Dean’s hands roamed over his back, applying pressure that was supposed to relieve but only caused him to tense up further. He could already tell that it was going to be a losing battle.

“You’re not a teenager anymore. You can hold back,” Dean said with way more confidence than Sam felt. He continued to ran firm hands over Sam’s body, pressing his fingers deep into tissue and forcing rough groans out of him. He shivered around a deep moan, unconsciously wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck and hugging him tight to him as he worked through the tremors that were wracking his body. Dean had swept his hands softly over his spine and in the process set off a storm of sensation that overwhelmed his senses.

“God, Sammy, look at you,” Dean breathed into his neck. “You smell so good,” his sounded ravaged and hoarse. He pulled Sam tighter against his body and sunk a little lower in the couch. The move aligned them in a way that made it clear that Dean had no intentions of behaving. “I love how you feel,” he stroked the corded muscles on Sam’s back, shoulders and arms as he said this, squeezing and grasping in turns at the resistance he met. “So firm and solid. I could keep you here all fucking night.”

“Dean...” Sam moaned, overwhelmed. They’d never gone this far before and Sam ached as he heard the need in Dean’s voice.

“I want to touch you all over. I hate that there are things about you I don’t know. You would let me find out right Sammy? You’d let me find all your weak spots right?” Dean’s hands had returned to Sam’s thighs clutching at him tightly enough to leave marks. He pulled their bodies even closer like he was trying to inhabit the same space.

Sam could feel the unmistakable hard outline of Dean’s cock pressed hard and hot against his stomach and he quivered as a harsh sound escaped his lips. He wanted to touch him. How different would he feel? Could he make Dean come easily or would he have to work for it? Would Dean demand his mouth? Force him to learn how to take all of him? Dean had said that he wanted that. To force Sam to keep him wet for hours. How would it taste? Would he gag? Would Dean praise him for trying? He imagined it briefly as he rubbed a little desperately against the heat pressing into his stomach. “Fuck, Dean,” he cried helplessly.

Dean pulled away slightly so that he could catch his eyes. “You’re so desperate for it. Desperate for me.” Sam moaned sharply, writhing in his arms at his words. He could feel how hot his face was and he didn’t want to know what Dean was seeing. “You make me feel invincible brother. I just want to take you apart.”

“You don’t play fair Dean. I’m trying to follow your rules but you’re making it so hard.”

“You make me hard,” he grinned cheesily, thrusting his dick against Sam’s suggestively, eyebrow waggling included.

Sam shut his eyes tightly, bracing for the sensations that rush over him as their sensitive cocks rubbed together. _Fuck! why does it feel so good?_ Rallying his resolve, he pulled away and placed a firm hand on Dean’s shoulders in a hope to stop things from going crazy.

“You’re an idio-” he started but his words were cut off by his own surprised gasp as Dean forceded his hands into Sam’s pants, palming his naked ass. He lifted Sam up, heat of his palms branding his bare skin as he squeezed and pulled him back in flushed against him before laving his neck with bruising grazes that sparked pain and pleasure through him. “Fuck!” He moaned as his hips convulsed against his will. There was no way he could cool this down if Dean kept pushing them higher. He was tired of trying. Dean had made the rules, if he was finally willing to break them then Sam was fine with it.

Giving in, Sam arched his back and started a desperate grind. He loved the feeling of their two cocks rubbing up against each other, even through their clothing. Dean’s hands on his ass kept pushing him harder, tighter, moving him how he wanted like he owned him and his body was Dean’s to do with what he wanted and he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to hold out for long. It was too intense.

Dean kept making these harsh noises in his throat every time he forced Sam down and met him half way with frantic thrusts. Sam couldn’t help answering them with his own. He could barely catch his breath. It wouldn’t take long before they both exploded at this rate.

They locked eyes for a second, Dean’s dark with want. He’d never seen that look before and it made him feel weak. Dean was looking at him like he wanted to devour him whole. His lips were pink and wet from sucking on Sam’s neck and more than anything, Sam wanted to taste them. He wanted to come while swallowing the sounds Dean made. He hadn’t even realised that he was already bending down to make it happen until he saw the brief moment of panic in Dean’s eyes before he stood up suddenly, dumping Sam down to the floor in a jumble of limbs.

“Wha-?” he said in confusion. Things were going so well. Sam looked up at him and saw the determined set of his jaw. Dean was going to pull away again. They’d finally made a breakthrough too. Unthinkingly, mind sex stupid, he grabbed Dean by the hips and mouthed hungrily at the hardness he could see outlined there, desperate to feel, taste. He wasn’t ready to stop yet.

Dean made this wounded sound before pulling Sam away from him harshly by a fistful of hair. It hurt so good and stretched his neck out in a way that left him feeling vulnerable and exposed. He fucking loved it. The feeling of humiliation and weakness just hyped him up more. He was acutely aware of the heat of Dean’s gaze even with his eyes closed. They were frozen in this position for a while. Sam swallowed around the lump of desire in his throat as he tried to calm himself. He didn’t make a move to get Dean to let go of his hair. Even though it was an awkward position, back arched and balancing on his toes as it were, he could stay there forever.

Finally, when he felt like he’d managed to get himself under some form of control, he opened his eyes to look at his brother.

Dean looked like Sam had gutted him. Slowly, he released the tight grip he had in Sam’s hair and Sam sank back onto his knees, head bowed slightly. He felt ashamed at that look.

“Why do you always make things so difficult?” Dean accused. Sam couldn’t say anything around the shock of that statement. He was the one making things difficult? How was any of this his fault? Neither of them said anything for a while. Sam was too busy trying to calm himself down less he said something he would regret. “I can’t do this,” Dean said eventually before turning to leave.

Sam grabbed his retreating hand before he knew he’d even planned on doing it. He stood up awkwardly on shaky legs just as Dean paused, his back to him. He could feel the heat continuing to rise in his face, a combination of his lingering arousal and his mounting anger.

“You can’t just say that and walk away. How is this my fault? You don’t play fair Dean. You say I make things difficult but you’re the one who’s started every single thing we’ve done.” He let his hands go watching it swing a little before Dean’s shoulders tensed. “I try to respect your rules because I want you to see that this can work between us but it feels like you’re making fun of me. One minute you’re all over me and the next you’re pushing me away. You’re giving me whiplash man. I’m not a toy you can play with until broken.”

Dean hadn’t turned to face him yet but his head bowed a little at that. “I want you Dean,” his voice cracked a little as he admitted it fully for the first time. “Sometimes it feels like I’ll go crazy with how much. So of course I’ll respond if you touch me. Of course I’ll give in if you show any interest in me. I feel like I spend all my time wishing for you to want me back, but I don’t _just_ want sex.” His voice went soft and imploring as he continued. “I want to show you that we _can_ have everything, so if that means respecting your rules I will but I can’t do that if you keep blowing hot and cold. You should figure out if you even want this because you’re sending me some seriously mixed signals here.”

Dean’s shoulders seemed to slouch in defeat. His dejected frame drained all anger out of Sam. He turned to look at Sam with such a look of helpless contrition that Sam instantly forgave him. “Sorry Sammy.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Sam assured him. “I just think that maybe you agreed to this too quickly and that you should think about whether you even want it some more before we end up hurting each other. I wouldn’t want us to go back to those days where we could barely be in the same room together. Take your time to really think about whether or not you want this. Whatever you decide I’ll accept. I’m done pushing.”

He walked up to Dean and squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll spend the night in my room.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, 
> 
> You've reached the half way point of 'Unsteady'. Thanks for reading this far. This is my first attempt at truly writing and as you might assume it's very stressful lol. I originally devised a ten phase story and as of this chapter we've arrived at the end of phase five. I didn't think I'd make it this far and it's thanks to you amazing people who read, comment and kudos that I get the courage to hit that 'New Chapter' button each time. That's not to say that I still don't panic every time I see a new comment expecting someone to tell me how much this story sucks. I'm learning a lot of things during this journey and believe it or not, the story has evolved based on a lot of things that you have said in the comments. I am a huge fan of brainstorming because I believe that we improve things by working together so if it's not too much to ask, I was hoping you'd let me know your thoughts on the story thus far. This helps me find holes that I might have missed and allows me to create a more rich and engaging story. More than that I'd just like to say thank you for reading and I hope that I can continue to create an interesting story to the very end.
> 
> Thanks for your time,  
> Emilia~


	19. Interlude - They May Seem Real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for the AMAZING feedback on the last chapter. I noticed that some of you have been with me since I started writing. THANK YOU! This chapter is dedicated to you who raised questions about Dean and felt angry on Sam's behalf. 
> 
> Also thank you to those who left kudos or who even made it this far. You all give me life. XD
> 
> Nightmare - Avenged Sevenfold

He felt cold. More cold than he could ever remember feeling at any point in his life. This dreary chill crawled beneath the surface of his skin and dug deep, down into his bones, like countless wriggling worms slithering their way through him and the ache of it left him with this sense of loss and wrongness. He squirmed in confusion, a frown pulling his brows down as he tried to make sense of the despair that tangled around his emotions and body. He was trapped as the wreathing continued beneath the surface of his being, carving a path to his heart and robbing him of something important along the way.

With every passing second, he could feel that important something slipping away from him. This thing was vital to his very survival and he had no idea what it was. Groaning with effort, he pulled at his restraints and tried looking around, his body trapped as it was within the tangle of forlorn. But all he could do was move his eyes around desperately.

There, in his periphery, something was just barely visible. That was it. The thing he had been looking for. He was sure of it. Yet every time he tried to define this illusive, slippery thing, it slipped some more through his grasp. Like sand running through the gaps between his fingers.

It felt like hours sped by as he stubbornly tried to fight his bounds so that he could remember that important thing. But the more he tried the less sure he was that there even was something there. He had no proof really, just this overwhelming sense of urgency and desperation.

Time continued to speed by as he struggled endlessly and without result. Panic fluttered more and more insistently for his attention and the desire to quit grew with each failure.

Maybe he was deluding himself. Maybe he was grasping at straws and the thing he’d thought he’d seen in the corner of his eye was just his imagination, a trick of the mind. He was driving himself crazy for something he wasn't even sure was real and if it was, he didn't even know how important it actually was. It would be easier to quit.

He could feel himself starting to give in and relax as the seductive whispers continued to urge him to stop, rest.

Then, it happened, in the instant between the moment he was still trying and the moment he would have stopped. Just a flash of a man, smiling at him softly. He didn't know who he was but something in him screamed that this unknown man was the most important person in the world.

His eyes snapped open against the urge to close. It was like a jolt of willpower and adrenaline, shocking him and motivating him with a dozen questions. Before, he wasn't sure if he was fighting for something real. Now, more than anything, he was desperate to find out who that man was and he knew that if he gave up now, he would never find out.

He could already feel it starting to slip away from him again so he clung on to the image and his certainty with everything he had in him.

The more he held on to it, the more it pushed away the fear and despair curling around him and trapping him like poisonous vines.

He felt pain at the fringes of his mind as he fought to know the things he had forgotten. And he was sure now that he had forgotten. The more he tried the louder the alarms in and around him went off. It felt like if he pushed any harder, his mind would shatter into a million pieces and never be whole again.

Was he really willing to go that far? It was frightening because it didn't feel like a real question. Or rather, he felt like he already had the answer before he even asked the question. He didn't feel fear for the consequences. He was willing to risk anything just for a slim chance that he might remember who this man was and why he held the keys to his happiness and well being, not to mention his memories.

With his decision made, he pushed against the reflectionless mirror before his eyes. The pain was almost unbearable, piercing him with a thousand shards of white hot light. He clenched his teeth against it and pushed harder, screaming a soundless sound as it cracked and punctured his mind.

In an instant, it shattered and immediately the pain was gone. With it came a rush of memories, too numerous to pinpoint any given but still he was able to absorb it all. His name was Sam and the man was Dean, his brother.

He could feel the earth beneath his feet starting to fall away. His bindings melted from his body and then he was falling rapidly through mist. The wind howled in his ears and his clothing thrashed around him tumultuously. His stomach flipped at the speed of his decent only to stop with a jarring suddenness. The mist, almost sentient it seemed, slowly started to part to show Dean standing in front of him.

"I can't do this," Dean was saying. His shoulders set in anger. The waves of fury coming off him were almost physical in their intensity/ He was holding onto a bag in one hand. Body slightly turned away.

 _What's going on?_ Sam wondered in a panic. He felt wrong footed like he’d walked into the middle of a conversation and he had no idea what the topic was. The problem was that the conversation was between him and his brother. It seemed that Dean was leaving and he had no idea why. "Don't pretend you weren’t dying to leave me from the start," he heard himself yell back voice trembling with rage.

The hurt look on Dean's face felt like a hot blade stabbing his heart. He opened his mouth to take the words back but nothing happened. _No! Dean!_ _D_ _on't leave!_ He screamed against the walls of his mind to no avail. "Fine! Leave! See if I care!" He said instead, as his brother climbed the fluctuating stairs and walked through the walls.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t say the words he wanted to. _Don’t go_. He couldn’t even move to try and stop him. He kept beating against the invisible wall that held him prisoner.

Dean had left.

He could already feel his vision blurring as his body started to move again this time flinging him side ways just as violently as before, into a night scene.

Dean was standing in front of him again. Something about their surroundings was making him feel uneasy. It hang heavily in the air with evil intent. Something bad was about to happen. He could feel it. Dean was speaking but no matter how hard he tried to catch the words, they didn't make sense. It sounded like it was coming through a filter and getting jumbled on the way out. All he knew was that Dean was angry.

His mind kept straining as it tried to decipher the gargled speech, pulling his attention away from the warnings screaming in his ear. In frustration, he turned away from Dean, tuning him out for a second so he could scan his surroundings. His instincts were going crazy. They were in danger.

"Dean we gotta go. Something's not right," He couldn’t see anything but he knew it was coming.

Dean frowned at him, shielding his eyes from the glare of the midday sun.

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't think this is real," He said distractedly as he tried to find the source of his agitation.

"I know I said we wouldn’t do anything sexual but to say what we had was not real...”

"No Dean I mean this, everything." He pointed at the sun. " It was just night. Now it’s day. I don't think this is real. I think I'm dreaming. Something is coming. We gotta go."

As soon as he said the words, Dean started drifting away from him. The space between them widened slowly. He made several attempts to grasp at his brother, to keep him near but to no avail. The distance between them kept growing. He started to run. He needed to catch up.

He caught movement to the side of his eye. Demons and they were moving towards Dean fast. Sam re-doubled his efforts, running faster but he couldn't seem to make any progress. No matter how hard his legs pumped, he didn’t make any progress while Dean continued to slide away.

He watched in horror as several demons surrounded his brother and still Dean continued to stand there doing nothing to save himself. A fleeting memory of the Turducken drone people flashed in his mind.

He was screaming he realized. Fear pumped in his veins, toxic and thick. He had to save Dean. He could feel his desperation mounting, tears prickling the sides of his eyes. His legs burned from exhaustion and he could feel himself losing the rhythm, his body wanting to topple over. _Dean!_ He kept yelling, reaching out, stretching but nothing. Dean continued to stand there like he couldn’t see the demons, with their sinister smiles, and black malevolent eyes. He watched as their shadows stretched out over Dean dancing with evil intent.

Then something changed. The shadows started to roil and twist and spin in a frenzy. They were excited, getting ready to move. He could taste the bitterness of their anticipation on the air. One demon slipped behind Dean and while smiling at Sam, he took an angel blade and stabbed it viciously into the side of Dean's neck.

"No!" he screamed in anguish, arm stretched out, as he watched the life drain out of Dean in crimson red.

-

He jolted up out of the bed. He couldn’t catch his breath. His chest expanded rapidly. His heart thundered against his chest, beating a wild and frantic rhythm. He ran trembling hands through his hair before wiping away at the tears streaking his face.

"Fuck!" He sobbed, hugging his knees to his chest in the darkness of the room. He’d hoped that his mind would stop tormenting him like this. "It's not real," he said on a loop, using all his willpower to not get up and check in on Dean. No matter how many times he said the words though, he kept returning back to that moment when he couldn't save Dean over and over. It was so vivid and felt so real that he truly doubted if Dean actually was alive in his room in that moment. There was this part of him that kept whispering, _you're not sure_ , and he needed to know just to prove to himself.

He didn't bother to even put on a shirt. He climbed out of the bed, the damp sweat on his body drying and pebbling his skin. He pulled the door open, feet speeding down the hall with single minded determination. He would just make sure Dean was alright then head to the library to do some reading.

He opened Dean's door as softly as he could and peered in for a second. Dean was asleep in his bed as usual. He wasn’t fully convinced yet though. He waited for a second more, just to watch his brother’s chest rise and fall with his breath a few times before finally heaving a sigh of relief.

Satisfied, he turned to leave. Dean was still alive.

Just as the door was about to close, he heard, "Sam?" in a heavily sleep laden voice.

"Hey..." he whispered, opening the door again. He felt tired, more than that, drained. Leaning heavily against the door handle, he stared into the room sadly.

"Is everything alright?" Dean asked, sitting up in the bed, eyes immediately alert.

"Yeah..." he said, voice trailing off as his eyes slid down to the ground. He didn’t want to tell Dean about the nightmare. It was still too real on his mind.

"What happened? You look freaked man.”

“Everything’s fine. I just wanted to make sure...”

“You had another nightmare,” Dean said with sudden understanding.

Resigned, Sam gave the barest nod, head still down as he was supported by the door knob. He stayed like this for a while, unsure what else to say. He was so lost in himself that he jumped slightly when he felt firm hands on both of his biceps. He hadn’t heard Dean move at all. “Come on brother, look at me,” Dean coaxed gently. “You look like you’re about to collapse.”

He felt vulnerable in that moment as he was forced to meet Dean’s eyes. The echoes of the nightmare were still so fresh. They hadn’t had time to fade away yet and he knew immediately that Dean could see the horror of it in his eyes. His features hardened in determination as he looked at Sam.

“There was so much blood,” Sam couldn’t help but say, touching Dean’s neck. His vision drifted back to the nightmare and he shivered.

Coming to a decision, Dean grabbed his hand and led him to the bed. He tucked him in like he used to do when they were kids and slid into the other side. He was silent for a while but it was a heavy silence like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. Sam lay on his side, back to Dean and just stared into the darkness, waiting.

He felt the bed move as Dean turned over to lie on his back. “No matter what happens between us, I _promise_ that I will never leave you alone in this world. If you can’t trust that I won’t just die randomly, or in a fight, or that I won’t do anything deliberately reckless, then trust that promise. Every decision I make, I will make to ensure that I keep that promise. I will do everything in my power, I will sacrifice anything to make sure I keep that promise to you.”

Sam lay on the bed quietly, feet tucked into his stomach, a shield against the things that wanted to hurt them.

“Sam,” Dean said, touching his arm lightly and leaning over him. “I need you to hear this. I need you to hear me say this.”

Taking a huge breath, Sam mustered up what little resolve he had left and turned over to face Dean.

“Are you with me right now?” Dean asked as he looked at him. It felt like nothing else in the world mattered but Sam. He nodded, maintaining eye contact.

“Good,” He said threading his fingers into Sam’s hair. “Listen carefully. I am not going anywhere without you. I will never abandon you. Do you hear me?” He waited until Sam nodded.

“I will never leave you alone Sam. If you cannot trust anything around you, anything that you are seeing. Hold on to that fact. I will _never_ leave you here alone. Even when you’re angry with me and when I am angry with you, still, I will never leave you here alone. Are you hearing me?” He asked hands tightening slightly before loosening again.

“Yeah,” he said softly. He could feel something bubbling under the surface of his skin, like emotions under pressure fighting to come forward.

“I want you to hold on to that promise. When we’re in danger out there and you’re sure that something will happen. Remember that promise. When your nightmares seem so real. Just remember I will never leave you here alone. It’s the one thing that you can believe in. I will _never_ leave you alone.”

“Dean...” he said, voice wobbling. He felt assaulted under the force of emotions battling to over take him.

“Come on Sammy. I want to hear you say it so I know you heard me.”

“Do I have to? I heard you.”

“Nope not good enough. I gotta hear the words so I know.”

After a pause, “You’ll never leave me here alone,” he said softly, a little embarrassed. He could feel his cheeks heating.

“You don’t sound like you believe that. I need you to be sure Sammy. You need to be able to hold onto it even in your dreams. Come on. Say it like you mean it.”

“You’ll never leave me here alone,” he said a little more firm, a smile trying to break across his face.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” It felt like he was only now really waking up from the dream. The fuzziness in his mind was clearing and he kept repeating the words in his head. _Dean will never leave me here alone_. He heaved a long sigh, his tense muscles relaxing with the exhaled breath.

“Good,” Dean nodded letting him go. “I need you to make the same promise to me.”

Grabbing Dean’s hands tightly in his own, “I promise Dean and thank you,” he said, heartfelt and sincere, trying to infuse as much gratitude as he could into the words.

“Think you can get some sleep?”

“Yeah,” he said. He was no longer afraid because he knew that no matter what horrible visions his mind showed him, Dean would not leave him alone.

“Alright. Night Sam,” he turned over and pulled the covers under his chin before sighing and settling into a more comfortable position.

“Night Dean,” Sam said, turning over also. After what had happened earlier in the evening, he didn’t blame Dean for giving him space. Despite this new promise, things were still unresolved between them. He was grateful that Dean was able to separate the two and still be there for him when he needed him as his big brother.

In the morning, when the terror of the nightmare was behind them, they would have a lot to figure out about their relationship but he knew that no matter what, they would be okay because Dean had promised.

He breathed in a deep breath. He felt tired all of a sudden...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been outlining phase 6 of the story and it's taking a little longer than I thought it would so I thought I'd post this quick interlude chapter in the mean time. To give you a sense of what I'm doing. The outline for this chapter was 108 sentences long but I knew I wouldn't be able to finish in time so instead I took the first three sentences of the outline and that became this chapter. "Sam has a nightmare. He goes to Dean to make sure he's still alive. Dean makes him a promise." That's it. There's still 105 sentences of action to take place so I think the next chapter is going to be a killer and honestly I'm a little intimidated lol. I might cut it in half but we will see.


	20. Won't Let Myself Believe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this chapter. I some how lost the last half of it and had to rewrite the entire thing. I'm sorry if it doesn't read like the others. I tried to rewrite it how I'd originally done but you can never get it the same the second time unfortunately. So hopefully you still get where the story is going. ;__;
> 
> Warrior - Beth Crowley

He woke up gently, slowly. It was so subtle that one moment he was asleep and the next he wasn't. He opened his eyes and looked around in the dim, barely there light, surprised that he was in Dean's room. He was pretty sure he'd gone to bed in his own room the previous night so confusion pulled his brows down as he tried to jog his memory. Then, it all came back in a rush – making out with Dean on the couch, the fight that followed and his nightmare.

He felt his palms tighten into fists as impotent frustration coiled in his gut. He'd thought that maybe he was finally free from the nightmares since it had been a while since he had had one but it seemed that that was not the case.

He knew that his nightmares were triggered by the irrational fear that Dean would somehow disappear if he wasn't in his sights at all time. It really was unreasonable because his fear stemmed from the idea that he was absolutely necessary in Dean's life to ensure his continued survival. Where as Dean was a capable man and had been taking care of himself, albeit not amazingly well, but he had been doing so for a long time.

With a trigger like that, it was no surprise that he'd had another nightmare. Especially with the way last night had ended. He remembered going to bed feeling like things were ending between them and that maybe he'd pushed Dean for too much, too soon.

He turned over onto his stomach, feeling the softness of the covers as it glided over his naked chest. He shoved his hands under his pillow with a sigh. The underside of the pillow was cool to the touch and after a moment's hesitation, he turned it over to feel that coolness against his face.

He should have known that Dean hadn't been ready yet. Sam had basically told him that he wanted him, then spent days bombarding him with that want because he had it in his mind that his brother could never say no to him. How arrogant could he be? He had accused Dean of blowing hot and cold but he was worse because he had been acting like a spoiled child who wanted something and wanted it now, regardless of the consequences. How was he any different? He might have had the sureness of knowing what he wanted over Dean's confusion but that didn't make his behaviour any better. He knew how his brother was. Dean was brave and wanted him to be happy so there was no way that he wouldn't jump into this blindly but he was still a person who had to come to terms with things in his own way.

He really should have known that Dean hadn't been right there with him all the way. His brother's indecision made that readily apparent. His inner battle clear in his struggle to do what he thought was right and to give Sam what he wanted. He should have realized. It was just that it had felt so good being with Dean like that, like an impossible dream that had some how become reality so he'd chosen to ignore the warning signs.

 _Fuck_... he thought, stuffing his head into the pillow and letting out a pained groan at the sudden onslaught of guilt. He'd always tried to be thoughtful and intuitive to those around him. It helped them a lot during cases, especially with the grief stricken family and friends of victims. It was hard to realize that when it came to what he wanted, he could be just as selfish and greedy as the next horny guy.

He flopped over onto his back again as his mind kept racing. He must still fear losing Dean. Maybe that was why he had tried to push so hard for a relationship between them. He'd hoped that if Dean thought of him as a love interest instead of the little brother he had to take care of, he'd be more unwilling to let him out of his sight. He _had_ said that if Sam was his he'd be possessive of him. What better way to keep him close? Keep him safe, than to become his focal point? Even more so than he already was? As his kid brother there was always the threat of some woman coming along and stealing his attention. It had happened before. As his lover though, he'd have more security.

In the back of his mind, a little question kept coming up. _Was he only interested in Dean romantically as a means to keep him here?_ If so did he even really want to be with him? Or was this all just a roundabout way of guaranteeing that he got to keep Dean? He sat up suddenly in the bed, confused. Could that really be it?

He floundered for a moment before giving it up as hopeless and pushed the question down forcibly. It had no basis in reality anyway. He had countless promises from his brother that he would never leave him, before his nightmares had started. Dean had even gone as far as to vow to him last night, so there was no way his interest was based on that. It was just that he didn't want to leave Dean either. He would rather have him here than lose sight of him and have something happen when he was not around. Even if that meant that he'd have to deal with Dean treating him like he had last night.

Still, that didn't excuse Dean either. He slowly sank down back onto the bed again. Dean was all over the place emotionally. He shouldn't be surprised though. Dean had a habit of jumping into things without preparing for it and hoping for the best. It made sense that he was conflicted. He was probably fighting himself right now. Despite what most thought, his brother had a strict moral compass. It was generally skewed towards Sam but it was what guided his actions.

' _Protect Sammy_ ,' probably played on loop in his head on a daily basis. There was no way he wouldn't see what they were doing as going against that. Not to mention social stigma and the whole male thing.

But at the same time, there was no denying that Dean was definitely interested. He'd felt the hard proof of it against his stomach. He'd seen it in his eyes and felt it in the desperate touches. Dean wanted him back but he was at war with himself about it. Do what he thought was right or do what he wanted. He couldn't see yet that both options had the same result.

Sighing again, Sam came to terms with the fact that unfortunately that was his fault. He'd been coming on too strong, forcing Dean to make rapid decisions before he was ready.

For that he was sorry. He'd have to back off a little. Cool it so Dean could have some space to breathe and figure out where his head was at. He was patient. He knew that in the end, things would work out. All he had to do was wait. He'd played his part. Now the rest was up to Dean.

-

That decided, he arched his back lazily before stretching both hands up in the air. They'd come a long way since the case in El Paso. It felt like it had been ages but it really hadn't. He never thought they'd even make as much progress as they had.

Sitting up in the bed again, he scratched at his hair lazily before making moves to get up. He hadn't noticed it at first but as the covers slid down his bare chest, his nipples pebbled in the cool air as goosebumps raced up his arms in a rush. Running his hands over his biceps vigorously to fight the chill, he looked around the room, eyes settling on the couch. Again he was transformed back to last night. They hadn't even done anything really. A little groping and touching here and there, but it had been so consuming.

Dean was a force of nature. Those around him couldn't help but get dragged into his pace. Sam knew this better than most. It had taken him the majority of his life to get used to the weight of his brother's gaze. Even then, he wouldn't say that he was comfortable with it, it was just too intense, but he had learned to live with it.

But with the new nature of their relationship, he'd come to realize that in actuality he'd only had a small percent of Dean's attention. The true weight of that gaze was heavy and demanded that he give it everything he had in return. He'd only felt it for brief moments in the last few days but already he craved it more and more.

Last night for example. He'd been completely swept up, overtaken by Dean, despite saying to himself repeatedly that he wouldn't give in.

He sighed in frustration at himself. He was just going around in circles. With resignation, he got up from the bed and started to get ready. He probably wouldn't get to stay in this room anymore. No matter how much he wanted to, with the way he was feeling, being here meant more to him than Dean was ready for.

He closed the door quietly behind him on his way to the bathroom. With any luck, Dean would already be gone when he went to make his breakfast.

-

He paused haltingly at the entrance of the kitchen. Dean was sitting at the counter quietly reading and drinking a cup of coffee. By the looks of it, he'd picked up another book in their seemingly infinite pile in the library. He looked up as soon as he noticed Sam and closed the book. It was obvious that he had been waiting.

"Hi," Sam mumbled, feeling the reminder of yesterday's incident laying between them. He'd really hoped that he could put this off a little bit longer.

"Hey," Dean said back, maybe a little slowlyly. Neither said anything for a second before...

"I just wanted to-"

"Sam, I-"

They said at the same time, only to pause.

"You go first," Sam hurried to say.

"No you go Sammy."

Sam grimaced at the awkwardness between them. It was like they'd forgotten how to be brothers.

“Alright. Gimme a second.” He strode fully into the kitchen. His long legs ate up the small space quickly. Grabbing a mug, he went over to the coffee machine before pouring himself a cup. He did this as slowly as he could, trying to buy himself some time. In fact, he dragged his feet doing this simple task long enough that he was surprised that Dean hadn't said anything, especially as it seemed that he was waiting on him.

Unable to put it off any longer, he took his cup with him to the counter across from Dean and turning the chair around, he straddled it before looking at his brother.

Some things were becoming more apparent the closer he looked. He'd assumed that Dean had gone to sleep next to him last night, however, that was either not true or he hadn't gotten any quality rest. He looked worn down and Sam could only assume that meant that he'd worked himself into some kind of negative headspace, as he was prone to do.

He felt defeated. Dean was probably beating himself up, over-thinking what had happened last night and he knew he'd have to tread carefully if he didn't want to push him further down into whatever spiral he was in. It was a testament to how much things had changed between them that Dean was willing to let him see him like this. In the past he would have done anything in his power to fake and bluff, to pretend that he was okay.

"Thanks for last night." He settled on after some thought. "With my nightmare."

Dean's head shot up from its study of the table to give him a look of genuine surprise. “You don't have to thank me for helping you out.” He took a sip of his own coffee before putting it down on the table and looking at Sam closely. “You good now?”

"Yea," he shrugged a little. “I think last night kind of caught me off guard you know? And it brought those old fears back but you really helped me.” He looked at his long fingers wrapped around the cup for a moment, lost in himself.

“Come on...” Dean protested softly.

“I shouldn't have gotten as upset as I did,” Sam insisted. He put his cup down suddenly, staring into its dark depths.

“Sam...”

“I've thought about it a lot Dean,” he hurried to interject before he lost his nerves. “And I think that maybe we rushed into this a little bit. And I'm not blaming you or anything,” he added. “If anything it's my fault for trying to force you.”

“Sam. Seriously. Stop already. You were right to say what you did last night. I _was_ treating you unfairly. You aren't my toy and I can't just keep yanking you back and forth like that. I've thought a lot about what you said too and I think that I haven't been respecting your feelings. All this... I don't know. It's so new and I don't know which way is up anym-”

The guitar riff of Dean's ring tone cut across the tension in the room with precision. It surprised both of them, taking them out of the moment and with an apologetic look, Dean pulled it out to glance at the screen.

JODY MILLS.

He gave Sam a concerned look before answering the call and putting it on speaker.

“Hey Jody. Sam's here too.” he greeted. “What's up,”

“Hey Jody,” Sam threw in, looking at Dean with an answering frown.

“Hey boys. It's been a while.”

“Yea, sorry,” Sam said a little embarrassed. “Things have just been...” he trailed off.

“Yea don't I know it. Protecting a city can really demand all your attention.” Her tone spoke of a heavy burden. “So how have you boys been?”

“Still here,” Sam said almost cynically.

“I know the feeling,” she laughed a little.

“I take it this isn't a social call,” Dean said wryly.

“Unfortunately you would be right,” She was immediately all business. “I could use your help with a case I'm working on.” She began.

“What's going on?” Dean sat up a little straighter in the chair.

“Well we've been having a rash of missing persons lately turning up dead-”

“You're the police shouldn't you be handling the missing persons? Our badges are fake you know?”

“Yeah smart ass. If you would let me finish... The problem is that they are turning up dead, drained and turned. As in vampire turned.”

“You're saying cause of death is bleeding out and not beheading? But they are vamps.” Sam interjected, suddenly interested.

“You got it in one. The weird thing is that I'd swear the wound patterns look exactly like vamp feedings. I can't make heads of it I tell ya. Just when I think I got this monster thing figured out, something new pops up. Anyway I don't know where to start on this one so I figured I'd get some help from the experts. Have you boys ever seen or heard of anything like this before?”

“Definitely not. Vamps don't die from blood loss and they definitely don't feed on each other. They feed on humans. They don't even like to feed on animals so this is definitely something new.”

“I was afraid of that,” her sigh travelled clearly over the phone. “At first I thought it was some kind of new big bad killing off a vampire nest but that's not the case. The vics are recent people reported missing, sometimes within only a few days before they turn up dead. So someone or something is either turning them and feeding on them, or someone is feeding on humans and turning them and killing them or someone is turning them and something else is feeding on them and killing them. Or it could be something else entirely. I have no idea what's going on.”

“I'll look into it Jody and let you know what I find.” Sam offered.

“Actually, I was hoping you boys could come down here and give me a hand if you're not too busy. My men are overwhelmed. They can't make heads or tails of it. They think we have a serial killer or there's some wild animal out there eating people and I definitely can't tell them that, you know, the vics are vamps.”

The boys shared a look over the phone. They were technically on vacation but if Jody was calling for help, here was no way they could say no. She was family. More than that, maybe they needed to get out of the house so to speak.

“I'll need to look into the lore,” Sam said more to Dean than anyone. Dean would plan heading to Sioux Falls around that information.

“We'll find a room in town and head out first thing tomorrow,” Dean said, coming to a quick decision.

“Nonsense,” she returned. “You'll stay with me. I have two rooms available in the basement. You're more than welcome to use.”

“No...” Sam said. “We couldn't put you out like that.”

“You boys are family. There's no way I'll be alright with letting you stay in some no tell motel. In fact I'll be offended if you stayed anywhere else. I'll even sweeten the deal with some home cooking.”

“Well...” Dean perked up at the sound of Jody's food. Sam knew that she was the reason Dean had been taking more initiative in learning how to cook. “If you put it like that... We definitely can't say no. Right Sammy?”

Sam gave him a look that he hoped communicated try harder. How was he going to explain to Jody about his nightmares if one happened to come while he was there? He was pretty sure they wouldn't be back after Dean's promise last night but it's not like he could predict the future and with a case that was likely to put them in danger, who knew what his mind would come up with. Instead, Dean shrugged at him over the phone and grinned.

“Well then it's settled. Sam I will email you everything we have on the case so far. Hopefully you can put that big ole library you got there to some good use. I'll see you boys tomorrow.” They said their goodbyes and hangup.

He turned the force of his most annoyed look on Dean. “What was I supposed to do Sam?” Dean defended quickly. “It's not like I could say no.”

“What if something happens and I have another nightmare? What about us? She's bound to notice that something's up.”

"About that..." he started slowly. "I think maybe we should press pause on this thing between us. At least during the case anyway. A lot of this is messing with my head man and I don't wanna be worrying about it out there so can we just be brothers for the time being and figure all this out when we're done?”

Sam could feel his chest tightening with fear and foreboding. He'd thought the same thing earlier, that it would be best if they pulled back, but to hear it from Dean just made it seem so... final. He knew that he was being unreasonable. Dean was right. They needed to be able to stow their shit while on a case. So many things could go wrong if they were distracted. Not only that but he suspected that Dean also needed the time to get his head on straight. Maybe if he wasn't always in Dean's face about this then he could come to a decision faster but it felt like things were ending. It felt like they were giving up. He was afraid that Dean would use this as a reason to pull away, increase the slowly growing distance between them. Like in his dream.

Knowing that there was nothing he could really do about it though, he nodded and said, “Alright.”

Dean heaved a sigh that sounded a lot like relief, further cementing Sam's suspicions.

“Are you going to be alright tonight?” He asked as he leaned forward a little, resting one elbow casually on the counter near the book he was reading.

Sam could tell that already he was a lot more relaxed now that they had agreed to press pause. The tension that was previously in his shoulders was gone, as well as the frown that had been marring his face. He almost seemed jovial in his relief.

“I'll be fine,” Sam said a little peevishly. He couldn't help the tiny spark of resentment that surfaced.

“You can stay in my room tonight. You know, just in case.”

“I'll manage Dean. Don't worry.” He shrugged off the offer as easily as he could. With their new agreement it wouldn't be the best idea to spend the night near Dean because while he was trying to figure himself out, Sam too needed to distance himself so he could be better insulated for the eventual ending, if he was reading the signs correctly.

“If you're sure...” Dean asked again hesitantly.

“I'll be fine,” Sam insisted, this time with more conviction. He got up to put away his cup. He had a lot to get done now that they were going out on a case. “If we're going to be leaving early tomorrow, I'll start doing research on this new type of monster. Just when you think you've seen it all...”

“Alright. I'll take the car into town to get serviced?" He hovered a little by the counter half on and half off his chair like he wasn't sure. "Sioux Falls is only five hours away but I'd rather have no surprises.”

“Sure,” Sam said as he walked out of the room, into the library. He didn't see the questioning look that Dean gave him.

-

Sam only noticed that Dean had returned when he sat across from him. “Hey,” Dean said, tiredly heaving a heavy bag onto the table. Sam lowered the lid of his laptop slightly before arching his back and rubbing his hand over his face tiredly. He'd been sitting in the library for hours, going over the case reports that Jody had emailed him and looking through anything he could find about a creature that might prey on vampires, with not much luck.

“Hey,” he said back as Dean started to work on some of the weapons they would need for the case.

“Any luck?” Dean asked as he worked with familiarity, taking pieces apart and laying them down on the table.

Sam breathed out a sound of pure frustration. "None unfortunately. This makes no sense Dean. I've never heard of a creature that fed on vampire blood.”

“Right. Their blood changes the drinker into a vampire so it's not really food.”

“And shouldn't they heal anyway? If they're vampires don't they only die from beheading? I've looked at all the crime scene and morgue photos and it does look like something was feeding on them. Something about all of this seems off but I can't put my finger on it just yet."

He frowned as he got sucked back into the report he was reading. He had to figure out what was going on. Eventually he noticed the rhythmic scrape as Dean started to sharpen their blades. It was almost soothing as he continued to go through the different theories that jumped into his mind.

-

“That's it. I'm putting my foot down. You've been at this for more than five hours and I can tell you're getting nowhere so it's time to stop.” Dean walked into the room with some food for them both. Sam hadn't even noticed when he'd left again.

“If I just keep working on it I'm sure I'll figure something out.” Sam was reluctant to give up.

“You're just as likely to find answers when we get there. Come on dude, you're making things harder on yourself than you need to. We will figure it out.”

“But...”

“Patience, dot, dot, dot, young Padawan.”

Sam rolled his eyes but he closed the lid of the laptop and pushed it away to make room for the plate Dean was placing in front of him. Dean reclaimed his seat across from him and bit into his sandwich.

“So what's the plan?” Sam asked before following suit. He cracked his neck a little on both sides and gave his attention to Dean

“We'll leave around six tomorrow,” he mumbled, mouth full.

“Dude, come on,” Sam shuddered with disgust, only for Dean to give him a huge food-filled grin.

Swallowing, he continued. “We'll probably make it there for ten. I was thinking we'd go in as Wilson and Fisher. That's what we used the last time we were there on a case. Just in case anyone remembers us.”

“You remember that?” Sam asked sceptically.

“I remember stuff,” he said defensively.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Anyway, I ironed some of your suits. They're in the laundry room, you just gotta add them to your bags. Weapons are packed and Baby's ready.”

Sam looked at him. He really looked at him for a moment. “You're excited. What's the rush? It's only like five right now.”

“Guess I'm just feeling a little stir crazy. I got all this energy. Gotta use it some how. The monsters aren't gonna kill themselves.” He drummed on the table a little

“Why though? It's not like you've been cooped up in here. You just came back from Lincoln.”

“But I didn't get to kill anything. I haven't killed anything in weeks Sam. Weeks! It's not natural.”

“Uh huh,” Sam said ignoring his over exaggeration. He went back to his sandwich and opened the laptop again, side eyeing the screen as he ate.

He was about to dive back into his research when he felt the laser point of Dean's stare boring into him. With resolve, he ignored it as best as he could despite desperately wanting to look up.Instead, hekept looking at the screen, until the table started to shake as Dean bounced his leg restlessly.

Finally unable to ignore him anymore. “What,” he said.

“Let's spar.” Dean had this focused look, like he was looking at prey. Sam was not going anywhere near Dean when he was like this.

“No way dude. Why don't you go run or something.”

“Please,” Dean scoffed. “I don't run.”

“Not my problem then,” he went back to ignoring Dean and within seconds, the laser stare returned. He muscled his way through the urge to look up and kept his eyes glued to the computer screen.

“Why not?” Dean asked eventually when he got that Sam was not going to give in.

With a frustrated huff, he met Dean's fierce gaze. “Sparring involves a lot of touching and gripping and restraining. We said we'd put a hold on this thing between us and I cannot guarantee that I can do that if you're going to be holding me down.”

“Come on. How about hand to hand then?” He cajoled not willing to give up just yet.

“You always say hand to hand but you ignore it and next thing I know you're forcing my face into the ground.”

“Well I gotta keep you on your toes little brother. The monsters won't play fair so why should I?”

“Yeah and that's why I'm not gonna spar with you, you cheater.”

“Aw come on Sammy. Don't be like that.”

“No Dean.”

“Spoilsport,”

“Says the cheater.”

-

His bags were packed and by his door. He was as ready as he could be for the case. The problem he faced now was that he was in his bed awake as he'd been for hours now. He couldn't seem to get his mind to relax. He was pretty sure that he wouldn't have any nightmares. He didn't know how he knew this. It was just this feeling he had. He just couldn't seem to convince his mind of this.

He lay in the dark on his back, covers tucked under his arms and stared unseeingly at the ceiling. He sighed in frustration at himself. He had been hoping to spend the time doing some more research but if this kept up, he might end up having to sleep for the duration of the drive.

His door squeaked slightly and a sliver of light cut through the darkness. He lifted his head to look at the intrusion. “Dean?” he asked, frowning slightly. _Why was he here?_

He watched as his brother walked into his room and slid into the bed next to him. He didn't say anything, just burrowed under the covers with a relieved sigh and turned over, his back to Sam.

Sam didn't know what to say to this. He could feel several questions trying to force their way out of his mouth. He took a deep breath, but then stopped before the question could make it out. Instead, he turned over as well and was asleep within minutes.

-

He woke up some time in the night to find Dean holding on to him. He fell back asleep almost immediately after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that this is a happy story. Consider this like a spring board to get these boys to where they need to be. Thank you for continuing to read this far in. You all are amazing and encourage and motivate me just by reading so yeah thank you :)


	21. Carry On Through The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Who's this random person suddenly showing up here. Hello! Sorry I've been gone but I promise I have a good reason. I got kind of excited about the new Story Phase and I've just been writing like a fiend. Which means that YES I have lots of chapters written and you'll love what's coming up. But yea sorry I didn't upload last week but I wouldn't have been able to write like I have been if I had... it's a whole thing. Don't worry about it.
> 
> SVRCINA - Meet Me On The Battlefield

He woke up to the feeling of a rough palm shaking him. He could already tell as soon as his eyes opened, that he hadn't gotten enough sleep.

“Come on Sam. Time to get up,” Dean said in a voice that was rough with disuse, before throwing the covers off and sitting on the edge of the bed, tired himself. Sam groaned a complaint in exhaustion, unwilling to face reality quite yet. He felt like he'd only just fallen asleep and already they had to get up. In protest, he stuffed his hands under his pillow a little petulantly, hugging it fiercely like it would send him right back to his dreams. And it was working because he was already being pulled back under, when the bed moved again as Dean got up, jostling him a little. He almost wanted to sob in frustration.

 _You're an adult_ , he thought to himself after a little while and sat up as he heard the door close. He rubbed the base of his palm against his eyes to hopefully chase away the tiredness.

Bit by bit he could feel himself slowly starting to wake up. They were heading out to Sioux Falls to help Jody because although they were technically on vacation, they couldn't ignore the possibility of a new big bad if they could help it. With a tired sigh, he sat at the edge of the bed and rallied his muscles into hoisting his large frame upright.

“Coffee,” he yawned, swaying a little on his feet. He looked around the room for the bags he'd set by the door the previous night and frowned in confusion when they were nowhere to be found. He could have sworn that he'd left them there for easy pick up on his way out.

Dean must have taken them with him when he left.

He paused with his palmed stretched out about to open the door. He must be more tired than he'd originally thought. He'd completely skipped over the fact that despite their agreement to go back to a sibling relationship, Dean had still ended up in his bed last night. Not only that but he'd held onto him just as tightly as ever. His fingers wrapped around the cold handle but he stood frozen where he was. His mind was racing with the possible implications.

Dean's actions were conflicting. He didn't want them to go any further but he wanted to hold on to Sam like he belonged to him. Brothers didn't do that. Technically brothers didn't share beds into their adulthood either. He'd assured Dean that he wouldn't need him that night _because_ of their agreement, yet still they ended up where they had – like two beings gravitating towards and circling each other.

He understood that Dean was probably confused about what he was feeling or what he wanted but despite that, he'd seemed sure that putting a stop to their evolving relationship was the right move. What reason then did he have to come to his room last night? Why had he seemed so contented and relieved the moment he'd slid into the bed? Why had he ended up with Sam in his arms? All of these actions seemed deliberate but they went against the very words Dean had spoken.

It's not that he was upset about what had happened. In fact it was the opposite. He was grateful because before his brother's arrival he'd been sure that sleep would escape him that night and Dean's presence in his bed was like the world's best sleeping pill. But Dean wasn't acting like himself and it could mean trouble later down the road if things weren't resolved soon.

Usually words couldn't be trusted because they weren't always truthful. It was action that mattered. Actions spoke the truth of the heart even when the mouth lied.

Dean had seemed so relieved when he'd slid into Sam's bed. It almost seemed like he'd sort Sam out for himself. Like he needed him.

He clenched the door handle a little tighter in frustration. He didn't understand where Dean's head was. Sometimes, he felt like he knew Dean so well that he could practically read his mind, but other times, he was so disorienting.

Should he allow himself to hope? He could feel it trying to blossom within his chest. That persistent maybe. Maybe Dean couldn't sleep without him either. Maybe, Dean still wanted him even though he was confused. Maybe his subconscious secretly craved Sam.

Clamping down on that fluttery feeling, he pushed it away and quickly opened the door. There was no use working himself up. For all he knew Dean had just some how known that he needed him last night. He always seemed to know when Sam needed him in the past, why would that be any different now?

He ambled down the hallway lazily. They had a routine when they were about to start a new case. Their bags were always placed at the base of the staircase outside the war room. Dean would make breakfast, they would take a shower and Dean would park Baby near the front to wait for them. So it came as no surprise to find his bags mixed in with Dean's – just where he thought they would be.

Bypassing them, he made his way to the kitchen at a slow pace. For some reason, he didn't feel the normal sense of urgency that usually accompanied him on the first day of a case. Maybe it was because he was tired both physically and mentally but he didn't want to leave the bunker.

Before he even entered the room, he could smell the eggs. His mouth watered a little and his stomach cramped in anticipation. Dean was already putting food onto a plate when he entered. Sam paused briefly when he noticed that it was actually scrambled egg whites with mushrooms and red peppers and not only that, but there also seemed to be a small bowl with granola and fresh fruit and a steaming cup of coffee.

“What?” Dean asked a little defensively when he noticed Sam's slack jawed expression. “You eat this crap don't you?”

Sam grabbed the seat in front of the food and picking up the spoon Dean had left there, dug into the bowl of granola. He was pleasantly surprised to find that what he'd originally thought was milk, was in fact yogurt.

“Thanks,” he said before sticking the spoon into his mouth.

“Don't mention it.” Dean said, turning around to wash the dishes he'd dirtied.

Sam chuckled a little and stuck his fork into the scrambled egg mixture on the plate. “I didn't know you even knew how to make this.” He looked at the fluffy piece of egg dangling on the tinges on his fork critically. Smoke curled away from it as it wobbled before he stuck it into his mouth and moaned an almost obscene sound, long, deep and filled with appreciation as the savoury taste of herbs and vegetables hit his tongue. It was so good. Not too salty and just the right amount of kick from the spices.

He opened his eyes to the cacophony of sound as Dean dropped the handful of utensils he'd been washing and they clattered loudly onto the concrete ground. He raised his eyebrows judgingly at his brother's clumsy actions and took another bite, eyes still on him as Dean picked up the utensils and cleared his throat. Dean ran a nervous palm across the back of his neck before realizing that his hands were still wet only to stop his actions abruptly.

“Shit,” he said, turning back to face the sink. Sam smiled at his antics and with a breathy sigh took another bite of his breakfast, licking the fork slowly as he pulled it out of his mouth.

He hadn't even noticed that he'd bowed his head, lost in the food as he was, until he felt the brief squeeze of Dean's palm against his shoulder. “Don't be too long,” he said in a strangely subdued voice before walking out of the kitchen quickly.

Sam craned his neck a little to watch the hasty retreat of his brother before frowning again. Had he done something wrong? They seemed okay, but he just never knew with Dean. _Telepathy would come in handy right now_ , he thought absently as he quickly finished his breakfast, no longer in the mood to savour it.

-

He could hear Dean humming a familiar riff in the shower as he entered the bathroom. They'd been listening to the same music practically all their lives and still Dean never got tired of it. He shook his head and smiled with soft affection as he walked into one of the stalls to relieve himself.

He was just putting some toothpaste onto his toothbrush when the shower spray turned off and still humming, Dean walked out, towel hanging low on his hips.

Sam wasn't even trying to be subtle as he watched him through the mirror. The muscles in Dean's back and arms moved appealingly under his skin as he walked. Sam couldn't help feeling a little bit of envy for the daring drops of water that rolled down his freckled body to disappear low down his back and into the towel. The toothbrush hang forgotten in his mouth as he imagined falling to his knees in front of Dean and chasing those drops over his skin with his tongue. Would Dean's stomach tighten from his touch or if he left gentle biting marks on him? Would he make a sound or would he try to keep the noises trapped in his throat? Would he fist a hand into his hair again and force him closer? Would Dean let the towel fall and push his head lower? Would he demand that Sam finished what he started?

He could feel blood starting to travel south as his mind conjured up startlingly clear visuals to match his thoughts. It was especially hard because he knew that Dean was naked under that towel. All that fresh, wet skin, with only the scent of Dean and his body wash. The scent he loved so much. Would it be stronger between his legs? He could feel himself starting to salivate as he imagined burying his face there. Getting deep lungfuls of Dean. Having him at his mercy. How hard could he get him? How fast? How far would Dean let him go? Would he let Sam run his tongue all over him to the point he'd need to take another shower with how sweaty he got? Would he let Sam lick him? Anywhere? Would he let him rim him? Without warning, an image of Dean bent over the sink with Sam's tongue buried deep in his ass, lapping at his twitching hole and forcing his cheeks apart, branded itself against the back of his retinas. He choked back a desperate sound at how real, how clear it seemed in the moment. He shut his eyes and hang his head for a second, palms gripping onto the sink tightly, almost painfully as he tried to banish the tempting images away.

Sucking in a deep breath, he lifted his head to find that Dean had paused by the exit and was looking at him with a slight frown. “You good Sammy?”

Sam nodded distractedly as he watched a single drop of water hang desperately onto Dean's left nipple. He knew he was being weird but he couldn't seem to take his eyes away from that clinging drop. It was was just begging for his tongue. “Uh huh,” he said before using all his willpower to meet Dean's eyes through the mirror. He could feel the heat to match the redness in his face.

“Alright,” Dean shrugged after a while. “See you in a bit,” before continuing out to no doubt cover up all that perfect skin.

Sam felt his breath rush out of him as he was finally able to relax. He looked down at the hard outline pressing insistently against his pants and wondered for a second if a cold shower would do the trick. He could feel the constant, almost painful throbbing that demanded his attention and he knew that that was not going to work today. He hadn't taken care of himself in days and in that time so many things had happened between him and Dean that he was already on the edge and a cold shower would just be a painful addition to the tone of the last day or so.

With a sigh, he quickly brushed his teeth and stepped into the same shower that Dean had used. He ignored the little voice in his head that reminded him that there were several shower stalls and instead turned the knob. He could already tell it wouldn't take long as the scent of Dean surrounded him. The hot water sluiced over his body and he wrapped his hand around the insisted throb between his legs. He wondered for a brief moment if it was really okay to think about Dean like that but already the fantasies from earlier were resuming while new ones were building in his mind. It was too much effort to fight himself and he really didn't want to anymore so he pushed all the questions and doubt away for later and just let himself indulge in a dream world where Dean wanted him back just as much.

-

Dean was seating in the war room waiting for him. He was engaged in typing on his phone before he looked up at Sam's approach. He typed up something quickly on the phone before shutting it down and getting up. “Ready?” he asked stuffing the phone into his jacket pocket. They were both dressed in their fed suits because they would be going straight to the police station and Sam had to admit that Dean looked good.

He nodded and the two of them grabbed their bags and walked up the stairs. Sam wouldn't help feeling that things felt a little off between them. Like maybe Dean was deliberately distancing himself somehow. It's not that they spent all their time in deep conversation but something about the silence was heavy and meaningful. He looked at Dean a little closely but couldn't find anything different about him that would explain why he was suddenly getting that impression. Maybe he was feeling guilty about what he'd done in the shower earlier and all this was in his head. He scrunched his face up as he walked up the staircase behind Dean. He _really_ didn't want to go on this case. His head was just not in a good place for it.

Dean held the door for him and he stepped through, opening the second door and walking down the hallway. He climbed the few steps out to stand by Baby. He put his bags down on the ground and waited for Dean to lock up the building. Neither had said anything yet and Sam wondered if this was how it was going to be between them from now. Now that Dean wanted to pause, would he be shutting Sam out all the time?

He understood why Dean was doing it. They'd crossed some serious lines over the last few days and Dean _had_ warned him that it would be hard to go back to normal if things didn't work out. He was being Sam's over protective big brother and trying to bring them back, without losing the bond they'd been building all their lives. Sam just hated that to do that he thought that he had to pull away that much. But if that is what Dean wanted then he'd go along with it.

He stepped aside as Dean unlocked the door. He threw his bags in the back before climbing into the seat that had been his for more years than he cared to remember. He felt Dean's eyes on him for a second before he turned around and climbed into the driver's side and they were taking off down the dirt road.

-

They'd been driving for a little over three hours now with nothing said between them. The radio the only sound in the car. Sam was going over the case, looking at everything closer and trying to find anything that might stand out as odd to distract himself. He'd began noticing that something was on Dean's mind about an hour into the ride. Dean had made several attempts at starting a conversation only to stop before any words got out.

For two hours, whatever inner struggle he was going through grew and as the drive continued, he seemed to get more and more anxious, almost impatient or frustrated. Fidgeting, tapping the steering wheel and sending not so subtle looks Sam's way.

For his part, Sam chose to be patient and waited him out. Even though Dean seemed to be itching to say something, he knew that it was best to let him come at it on his own terms and so he sat there waiting for his brother to figure out whatever was on his mind. He just hoped that Dean hadn't decided that the pause was going to become a full stop.

-

Not more than half an hour later, “Hey can we talk?” Dean asked, finally ready to discuss whatever had been bothering him. He was giving Sam looks from the corner of his eye as he kept the car moving.

Closing his laptop, Sam turned his body slightly over to his brother, letting him know he had all his attention. “Sure.”

Still, Dean said nothing, searching for the right words. “This is what I was worried about,” he finally settled on.

“What do you mean?”

“We said we'd talk more right? We said we would not lie anymore or keep things from each other. We agreed on that.”

Sam nodded. He didn't say anything because he wanted to see where Dean was going with this.

“Since our agreement yesterday, it feels like we _can't_ talk anymore. Things feel weird man. Like there's this-this space between us and I don't like it." He gestured a little as he said the word with a bit of disgust. “We agreed together to put a pause on this didn't we? We _both_ agreed.”

Sam was a little surprised. He'd assumed that Dean's earlier hesitation and the distance he'd been sensing, came from the fact that he was trying to bring things back to normal. That Dean was trying to bring them back to how they were before all this started and he was simply following his lead. It sounded instead like Dean was imagining some slight between them that just wasn't there and unfortunately it seemed that he hadn't done anything to help. In his defence, he'd thought that he was giving Dean the time and space that he'd wanted.

"We _can_ always talk Dean. Even if we never go where I want us to, we will always be able to talk. You're my big brother and I meant it when I said that I'd never shut you out again."

"Then what's with the vibe I've been getting from you? It's like you're throwing these anger signals at me and I feel like I'm walking on egg shells around you."

Sam rubbed at his chin thoughtfully as he balanced the laptop on his thighs. He had been feeling a little peeved yesterday but he didn't think he'd done anything that could send that message to Dean. If anything, Dean was the one sending “stay away” signals.

"I'm not seeing it. What did I do to make you think that?"

"...things. It felt like you were blowing me off with anything I suggested. It's just an impression I was getting.”

"I _was_ a little upset yesterday,” he agreed. “But I got over it really quickly, I agree with you that we should cool it. At least until you figure out if you want this or not. I've just been trying to follow your cues Dean."

Dean gave him an incredible look before he chuckled when he saw the truth on Sam's face.

"What?" Sam asked. They were having a serious discussion. There was no need to laugh at him.

"It's nothing. We just make quite the pair."

"Why is that?"

He shook his head and chuckled again. "So you're not angry with me."

"I swear I'm not. I guess we're both just trying to figure out how we fit together now."

"Alright," he accepted, turning his eyes back to the road and raising the volume on the radio just slightly. Sam could already tell that the atmosphere in the car had lightened. Before long Dean was humming and tapping along to the beat and so with a secret smile, Sam opened his laptop again and went back to his work.


	22. I'd Be So Lost If You Left Me Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Hope you like this chapter. So I posted this story on another site with the same message about reviews and likes as I do here and one person responded that they didn't like to review but I could be assured that they would still be reading and I spent a lot of time pondering that. You see I am not a talented writer however I don't believe that that should limit me and I have my ideas on what a good story sounds like. This means that I literally spend whole days editing a chapter to a point where I feel that it is at least readable. Sometimes I can't sleep and I'll wake up in the middle of the night to edit. So while I may have written the chapter in a few hours the reason I take so long to post it is because I'm just not satisfied with how it reads. So that means that I am consumed by the writing. 
> 
> After reading that comment I felt to myself that maybe this whole writing thing was not for me because it just wasn't rewarding. I am writing because I LOVE supernatural and I want to share what I see in the show with others which means that I also want to talk to others about it. I'm not gonna lie, I went through an emo phase and decided that I wasn't going to write anymore when this story was done. A One Hit Wonder if you will. Despite the fact that I have this awesome idea for a Soulless Sam/ Demon Dean story. 
> 
> But then after I stepped away from it and took some time to think, and I realised that I enjoyed taking what was in my imagination and seeing it on paper or rather a computer screen. And truthfully even though I don't get a lot of comments, those of you who do leave comments always leave these deep thoughtful analyses of the story. There is always some little thing I put inside each chapter and to date at least one person has noticed it which tells me that at least some of the people who don't comment ALSO noticed and that is so gratifying to me so I just wanted to say thank you for reading and I am grateful that anyone even wants to follow this to begin with.
> 
> Also if anyone is interested in a Soulless Sam/Demon Dean story, let me know. If there is interest, when this story is done, I'll probably start on that right away.
> 
> Also Also I am not a doctor so I only did minimal research on this. Forgive me if it is not 100% medically accurate. I claim artistic licence.
> 
> Also Also Also - I just kept thinking of Bobby Singer (the real one) as the medical examiner since he did that cameo in that one episode. You see him in the bloopers struggling to open the door lols. 
> 
> Hold On - Chord Overstreet

It was amazing how completely the atmosphere between two people could change. That shift from negative to positive was like a thing that could almost be felt physically – like another being occupying the back seat of the car. This was all the more obvious in the absence of the suffocating waves of displeasure and upset that had been swirling around them. He'd felt the tension between them but he hadn't realized just how bad it had been until it was no longer there.

Since they had cleared the air between them, Dean had seemed to come alive again. He was singing to the old familiar songs, sometimes missing the right keys but nonetheless happy. Even Baby seemed to be driving smoother. He knew how ridiculous that sounded because Dean prided himself on maintaining his car but Sam was convinced that she'd felt choppy and bumpy before while now the ride was smooth and easy.

He'd already done as much as he could for the case from afar so he closed his laptop and slid down in the chair to get a little more comfortable. Within minutes his eyelids sunk from heaviness.

-

About half an hour away from Sioux Falls, Sam started to notice that Baby was slowing down. He was already coming awake when Dean's arm tapped him on the chest lightly. With a long stretch that cracked a few of the bones that had stiffened in the uncomfortable position, he opened his eyes and sat up in his chair again.

“Wake up sleeping beauty. We're almost there,” Dean said, eyes on the road.

“I'm up?”

“Uh huh,” he said skeptically. “I need you to call Jody and let her know we're almost there.”

Sam reached for his phone to make the call and Jody, ecstatic, said she'd be waiting for them. He turned off the phone's screen and sat up a little straighter in the car, trying to regain some alertness before making sure his suit was not wrinkled or looking unprofessional. Maybe it had not been the best idea to take a nap after all. He felt a little sluggish and could feel a yawn trying to stretch his jaw. With a deep audible sigh, he tried unsuccessfully to stifle it. He paused when he heard Dean's light chuckle. Sam turned to him in surprise. It was only then that he'd noticed that it had been a while since he'd heard Dean's carefree laugh. Things must have really been stressing him out.

“How did you sleep last night?” Dean asked not long after.

He must have been anxious to know but unsure if asking would be welcome.

“It was alright after you came,” he admitted. “It's like last night... I don't know... I couldn't seem to shut my brain off for some reason. I think seeing you reminded me of the promise we made to each other and it was like a drug. I got knocked out like a light.”

“You were up the whole time.” Dean was incredulous. “I came to your room past one dude.”

“Yea,” he admitted.

“And you didn't think to come to me?” Dean asked a little quietly. There was something in his tone that set Sam on edge like Dean was hurting a little.

“I didn't realize it was that late,” he quickly answered. It was true. He'd felt like maybe it could be late but he hadn't thought it was that late. His perception of time must have been off. “No wonder I am so tired.” he laughed a little at him self and shook his head as he looked outside the window at the passing scenery.

“Do you think you'll be alright tonight? I won't be able to come to you if you have any problems.” He sounded a little frustrated with the situation and that surprised Sam more than anything even though it really shouldn't. His nightmares and sleeping problems were just that – his problems. He figured it was up to him to take care of it and yet Dean seemed genuinely upset that he wouldn't be able to help him if he needed it. Like the problem was his also. Like if he wasn't there to help Sam when he needed, it would affect him too. It continued to amaze him just how deeply Dean cared for him. How could he care so completely for someone else? He couldn't help just staring at Dean incredibly for a second.

Feeling his gaze, Dean quickly looked at him from the side of his eye and said, “What?”

“Nothing,” Sam answered with a secret smile. He felt so grateful for his brother. “I really think I'll be alright Dean.” In that moment he'd never been more sure of anything in his life.

“Still,” Dean insisted. “Let me know if you're not and I'll figure something out.”

Sam turned away to hide the smile that refused to leave his face. He could feel it threatening to grow so he kept his gaze locked outside the window. He felt a tinge of embarrassment as he saw it reflected back at him on the glass. This was a face he didn't want Dean to ever see him make or he'd know too much.

“Okay,” he said softly instead.

-

It never seized to amaze Sam how, no matter where they were in the country, police stations all had the same look and feel. They walked in and several people were already sitting in the waiting room. He made a quick sweep of the room to take it in and noticed a young woman, very early twenties with coloured hair he can only describe as rainbow unicorn, distraughtly talking to an officer at the front desk.

In a corner, trying to make herself seem as small as possible, a battered woman sat timidly, trying and failing to hide the wounds on her face and his heart hurt for her. He kept walking when Dean said a brief, “come on,” quietly to him. Nodding, he followed his brother deeper into the station. He hated this side of humanity. More than that, he hated that he couldn't help. The badge burning a hole in his jacket pocket was fake and didn't carry any real authority. It was times like these that he questioned whether or not he'd made the right decision in giving up law school. That is until he looked at his brother's retreating back and thought of all the times they'd saved the world. Because of their actions, this woman still had the chance to change her situation, whatever it was.

They got in line at one of the other counters that this huge station provided. In front of them, a professional man, based on the expensive cut of his suit, was talking aggressively to another officer and Sam shook his head. When would people learn that that was not the way to get anything productive done? Several officers behind the counter were observing the interaction with jeering comments at the man's expense. Sam gestured at Dean. They could see the officer's defenses coming up and where she might have been helpful to this person, her changing body language clearly said that she was going to stone wall him and make whatever process he was at the station to fulfil much more difficult than it needed to be. They shared a smirk because they could tell that this man was maybe not used to not getting his way and he was about to step quickly into the real world.

Dean leaned in, getting ready to whisper, no doubt some sarcastic comment about the man so he bent over, eager to hear what he had to say when, “Agents!” he heard down the hall perpendicular to them. Both their heads immediately swivelled in the direction of the familiar voice, along with half the people in the room.

“What are you'll looking at,” she said good-naturedly to her officers. “Get back to work.” She gestured to them to follow her and with an almost identical shrug, they got out of line.

They turned a corner and walked into the familiar office. As soon as the door was closed behind them, a huge smile spread across Jody's face. “Sam! Dean! It's so good to see you both. Come here,” she opened her arms for hugs.

“You too,” Sam said with a smile before bending down to hug her. Dean smiled that enigmatic smile of his before he followed suit.

“Sit,” she ushered and following her own advise, she sunk into the seat behind the desk. Half her energy seemed to drain out of her as soon as everyone was settled. “There was another victim late last night,” she said without preamble and with an almost defeated sigh, handed them both manila folders. “Another woman was found. Same cause of death.”

She watched as they scanned through the files. “The media's gotten wind of this and already they've started canvasing outside the crime scene.”

“So basically what you're saying is the crime scene is off limits,” Dean said in frustration as he lifted up his head from the file. They needed to check the scene out because the cops didn't always know what to look for when it came to the supernatural and if they didn't know they might disturb something that was, in all likelihood, a clue.

“Unfortunately that's a yes. However, you've got a woman on the inside. I'll be there most of today.”

“Alright. We can go to the morgue and check out the newest victim then,” Sam assured her while trying to placate his brother. It seemed that as time went on, Dean became more impatient. He grew more tired of dealing with all the BS that came with the job.

“Ill let you know what I find later.” she said as they all got up. Before they could leave however she stopped them. “Oh! I almost forgot. Made you boys some keys. I prepared the two rooms in the basement for you. You know the way so make yourselves at home.”

“Thanks,” Sam said as he took both keys from her. Dean was already half way out the door, but he waited for Sam to join him.

“Keep me up to date on what you find!” she called as the door closed behind them.

-

They parked on the street outside the morgue and stepped out of the car, shutting their doors at the same time. Neither noticed this as Sam walked around the vehicle to catch up to his brother and match his pace. Dean got the door for him and they walked in, showing their badges to the receptionist without stopping until they came up to the office of the Medical Examiner. They could see an older man with more salt than pepper hair sitting at the desk. He was on the phone so Dean tapped on the glass lightly and when the doctor lifted his head, they both flashed their badges. The doctor waved them in dismissively and pointed at the chairs in front of him before raising his free pointer finger to gesture one minute.

His attention was stolen by who ever was on the phone before he went off on them and slammed the phone down with a little more force than was necessary, in Sam's opinion.

“Sorry about that,” he said with an apologetic shrug. “Sometimes you gotta be a hardass to get things done. Bureaucracy,” he shrugged again.

Sam made a helpless answering shrug as an awkward smile stretched his face, trying to commiserate. He could feel Dean's eyes on him, judging and he honestly couldn't blame him because what the hell.

“Anyway how can I help you,” he asked.

“We're here to see the newest victim in the animal attack case.”

Dr Morgan frowned. “I already sent in my report this morning. Didn't you boys get it?”

“Server updates. Something about new firmware. They were still... updating when we left so how about you show us what you have again?” Dean lied easily. He almost sounded annoyed which Sam thought was a nice added touch. They'd been doing this for so long that it was easy to bluff their way confidently through any situation and Sam bit his lip to fight back the smile that wanted to come out at his brother's attitude. Dean accused him of taking the job too seriously but he was just the same.

“What's the point of even sending in reports if you're just going to come down here to bother me anyway?” the doctor grumbled as he got up from behind his desk. Sam and Dean wisely kept their mouths shut. “Well don't just sit there. Follow me.”

The two men got up and followed the M.E. into the morgue where he pulled out a drawer with a pretty lady on it. Looking at her toe tag, he walked over to the filing cabinet against the wall and pulled out a file.

“Victim. Female. Jane Doe. Age twenty six. Cause of Death severed femoral artery resulting in hypovolemic shock and exsanguination. This is different from the other victims in that while COD was the same, the location differed. The previous victims had their carotid arteries severed. I had already had my doubts that this was an animal attack but this new case confirms it. My theory is that we're dealing with a serial killer and if that wasn't bad enough, he's some kind of sicko. The wounds appear to be bite marks so the SOB is _eating_ them or at least doing some kind of sick cannibal play. Which you'd already know if you'd read my report. I spent so much time on it,” he mumbled the last part under his breath.

“We appreciate your hard work and as soon as our servers are up again we will use the report you sent in to bring this person to justice. Your hard work won't go in vein,” Sam said this all in a soft, soothing voice as he gently ushered the doctor out the door. “I know you're a busy man so we can do the rest ourselves. We will let you know if we need anymore help.”

The doctor looked into Sam's softly sympathetic eyes and nodded in agreement as he walked out the door to disappear down the hall.

Dean craned his neck to make sure that the doctor was gone before turning to Sam. “If I get like that in my old age, you have permission to shoot me.”

“You're already old and you're already like that.” Sam said as he put on a pair of gloves with a smack of plastic and grimacing, he lifted the woman's lip. “You're lucky I like you or I'd take you up on that offer.” He made a disgusted face as he pushed down on her upper gum. As he'd suspected, a set of retractable teeth popped.

“He thinks he's so smart,” Dean said to no one in particular as he rifled aimlessly through the odds and ends in the exam room. He was peering inquisitively through a random file on the desk in the room when Sam spoke up.

“Come check this out,” Sam called in a serious voice and immediately Dean was on the other side of the table. His look of disgust matched Sam's. “Dude. Come on.” Sam said irritatedly. “This is gross. Hurry up and look at her teeth.”

“What? You're going to ask me to inspect the goods next?” Dean grinned at his own cleverness. “Feels like we're battering for horses.”

Sam gave him such a dirty look he actually raised his hands up in surrender saying, “Sensitive,” before looking closer. “What the hell?”

“”You're seeing that right?” Sam said incredibly and a little excited. They didn't often come up against something new and the researcher in him was just dying to crack this case open.

“Those vamp teeth are way too small to do the kind of damage they would need to to feed. What the hell?” he said again.

“I don't know.” Sam freed one hand and using his phone, took a few pictures of the wound and the mini teeth before he pushed the drawer back in and disposed of the gloves. They were able to confirm his suspicions. He'd seen the teeth in the pictures Jody had sent but he'd thought that maybe it was just a bad camera angle. All of this was a mystery. First there were the vampires who died without beheading, and the teeth that weren't fully developed. Something was definitely off. The question was what.

They exited the building after a brief word of thanks to the doctor and sat in the car for a little bit as they determined together which witnesses they were going to see and in which order. This was at Sam's insistence. The last case was still fresh on his mind and he never wanted to go through losing Dean like that again. They would know where the other was. At all times.

-

After hours spent interviewing friends and loved ones of the victims, they were finally able to come up with a common denominator. The girls had all at one point visited I.C.E. a new trendy pub/club mix in downtown Sioux Falls, sometime in the past month or so.

The police had missed the connection because none of the girls had actually disappeared from the club itself. Some had disappeared days, even a week or so later. Many of the witnesses hadn't even bothered mentioning the club to the police during their interviews.

They'd updated Jody while having dinner and Dean had raved about the meal to the point that Sam was embarrassed for the both of them. They planned to head to the club tomorrow night to see if they could find any clues or anything that looked suspicious.

It was late at night and Sam was in the room he'd chosen and he was having trouble sleeping. He couldn't seem to get comfortable, or relax his mind.

It was funny because he'd spent the majority of his life basically travelling on the road and sleeping in random places, yet some how in the last little while, maybe because he'd gotten used to the familiarity of having his own space, he just couldn't sleep anywhere anymore.

He'd finally figured out that his previous comfort had more to do with Dean than anything because in all the places they'd slept – cheap motels, tents, the car, one thing was constant. Dean was always there next to him. And especially in the last few weeks, sleeping in the same bed as his brother had made it difficult to even contemplate getting comfortable anywhere he wasn't.

Even when they tried to spend the night apart, one of them almost always ended up in the other's room. Having the warmth of a body you trusted with your life, next to you when you were at your most vulnerable became an easy habit to form.

At this point, he was already familiar with this new sleeplessness so heaving an accepting sigh, he lifted his frame off the too small bed and walked over to his bags. He might as well be productive, he figured, and started to unpack his bags and put things away. They didn't make a habit of fully unpacking when on a job because it just didn't make sense. They never knew when they had to ditch in a hurry and they were never in a town long enough for it to be worth it but this was Jody's home and he felt that it was a little disrespectful to treat it like it was just another motel room, so he spent the next half hour folding his clothing into the dresser and putting some of his toiletries that he refused to leave behind, on the dresser's surface.

At one point, he stubbed his toe on the middle leg of the dresser, causing him to drop his bottle of shampoo and groaning out several swear words as pain radiated through him, but in no time he was done. He looked at the room in satisfaction, hoping the sense of ownership his things added would help.

Just as he laid back on the bed, his phone rang.

DEAN

He scrambled to answer it, eager to hear his voice even though they'd literally spent all day together.

“What are you doing in there?” were Dean's first words to him. “It sounds like you're wrestling wild animals.”

He chuckled as he turned off the lights and relaxed onto the bed. “I was putting things away and stubbed my toe. Hurt like a bitch.”

Dean made a pained noise, possibly remembering a time he'd stubbed his own toe. “Ouch. That will do it.” Sam could hear rustling over the phone like Dean was moving around in bed. “Why are you putting things away. We won't be here long.”

He shrugged even though Dean couldn't see it. “Figured it would help.”

“Can't get to sleep?” Dean's voice was soft and sympathetic and call him needy but Sam felt soothed knowing that Dean felt bad for him.

“Hmm.”

“You didn't seem to have any problems last night,” Dean mused thoughtfully. his voice seemed to wrap around him like a blanket in the darkness of the room and he started to feel warm, comfortable.

“I sleep better when you're close,” he admitted softly, rubbing his face against the soft pillow. His eyes closed against the darkness. This allowed him to focus more on Dean's words. His brother's deep rumbling cadence fluttered over him and he unconsciously cradled the phone closer to his ear, unwilling to miss even the smallest inflection in the voice that he knew so well.

“I'm not gonna lie it's the same for me,” Dean said in a hushed tone, like he was confessing a deep, dark secret. “I'm not sure what it is but it's like the closer I am to you the faster I get knocked out.”

Sam felt gratified in knowing that he was not the only one. “We're just gonna have to tough it out,” Sam offered with a smile in his voice.

“I don't know Sammy. I feel like I need my Sasquatch body pillow.”

“You can't always get what you want. If I have to suffer then you do too.” Dean's carefree words was bringing out a playful side in him he hadn't even known that he had.

Dean chuckled a little. “You know I'm going to hold you prisoner for days after this when we get home right? I'm being serious I'm not letting you out of my bed for days until we both stink and don't have a choice but to go shower and even then I'll see how I feel about it.”

Sam felt a thrill rush through him at both the image Dean's words conjured and what they implied. He didn't want to hope but he couldn't help it when Dean said these careless things. On the one hand, his mind went straight to the gutter imagining naked hugs in the shower and on the other hand it meant that whether he realized it or not, Dean had no intention of 'going back to brothers' as he'd originally said.

“You can try,” Sam offered weakly as he struggled to fight down the fluttering in his stomach.

“And I'll win. Remember Sammy. I always win.”

“Because you always cheat.”

“You have no evidence.”

“Dude. I'm the evidence.”

“Nope. Doesn't count. There's a law that says big brothers must always win so anything I do is fair game.”

“You realize we're arguing over the fact that you want to spend days cuddling right?”

“Not cuddling.”

“Cuddling Dean.”

“At best you could call it a slow spar. Which you owe me anyway. You realize I've asked you twice now and you have yet to agree right? So consider this like – like slow motion sparring. Yea. That's exactly what it is.” Sam could almost see the satisfied look on Dean's face.

“You're an idiot. Seriously. How are we even related.”

“Whatever. You think I'm awesome.” Dean answered with smug assurance.

“I don't know why,” Sam said through a yawn.

“Ready to sleep? I should let you go,” he said almost like a question.

“No! Don't go yet. Talk to me a little. It's helping.”

“So what you're saying is that I'm boring you to sleep.”

“It might sound like that but it's not. My brain's just getting confused thinking you're here.”

Dean laughed a little again. “We are some kind of co-dependent Sammy.”

-

Sam woke up some time during the night to find the phone stuck to one side of his face. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember actually going to bed. They'd talked for a long time about nothing really. The case, working together again after a while and their plans for the next day.

He must have fallen asleep while they were talking. He could feel his cheeks heating in slight embarrassment at that. Didn't teenage girls do that? He got up and plugged in the dead phone before heading back to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mainly though I'm interested in knowing if you'd want to read a Soulless Sam / Demon Dean story because I REALLY want to write it (innocent smile.)
> 
> P.S. You're gonna love the next chapter. (Not necessarily for the writing but for what happens.) Just saying... XD
> 
> Okay bye!


	23. In Your Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your lovely comments. I may have sounded a little more dramatic than I intended in the last chapter and so I apologise. -sheepish-
> 
> I'm glad to say that at least 3 people noticed some of the things I snuck into the last chapter : xxxxwitlee, Bro_Fan_For_Life, and Faraway22. 
> 
> (I'm always so excited when someone notices something I try to make sure is highlighted in the chapter but not obvious so I think I'll give kudos back to the people who noticed)
> 
> Zombie - Cranberries

Despite Sam’s heavy protests, Dean had gone out to talk to a few more relatives to the victims to see if he could find anything relevant that they could use. He’d insisted that sometimes the seemingly smallest clue ended up being the biggest. Sam secretly suspected that in reality Dean was more than likely restless and hated not having anything to do since they could not visit the crime scene and he’d gone out simply to occupy himself. Keep himself busy so he didn’t wear a path into the floor. Sam had only allowed it after he'd gotten Dean to promise that he would text him location updates after each place he visited. His brother had grumbled but so far he'd kept his promise.

Sam stayed behind so he could do some research on I.C.E. Some of the people they'd talked to had mentioned that the victims had gone to the pub/club mix but the issue was that they had not been killed there. Some of the victims had gone missing days after they'd visited the club and at least two hadn't gone there as far as he knew.

This meant that it was possible that the club was just a coincidence. The girls were young and it was a trendy place to be so it was reasonable that several of the victims had visited. But it was rare that a common denominator ended up being irrelevant so it was also possible that someone in the club had marked the victims and either followed them and kidnapped them later. But he was guessing. It might not even have be someone in the club. It could have been a taxi or UBER driver or someone in the area. He had to first figure out what was special about the girls and how the club played into it.

This was why they were going to scope the place out later that night. He had to admit that it wasn't his scene, even when he had been in the age demographic but if they could see the place, it might help them understand what a possible predator had seen. How he’d found his victims and maybe they would have a better picture.

Sam was sitting in the dining room facing the massive windows. The natural light coming in gave the room a homey feel. He got up for a moment to stretch out his stiff muscles before going into the kitchen for a glass of water. His mind was facing with a million unanswered questions. Gulping the water down, his long stride took him back to his laptop, almost drawn in, in his desire to find answers.

He hadn't even began to unravel the mystery behind the kills yet. The girls were being turned somehow but it seemed that it was not complete based on the fact that their vamp teeth weren't fully developed. Could it be that they were looking at this all wrong? Was someone attempting to take up Eve's work and trying to create new supernatural breeds? Whatever the answer was they couldn't find anything more from the victims. Their clues were at or around the club.

He interlaced his fingers behind his head and stretched a little at the table has his mind drifted. The house was quiet. He’s been expecting to see at least one of the girls but Jody'd told him that Claire was off doing her own thing and Alex was at school out of state. He had his laptop opened, linked up to the house's wifi and shaking himself out of his thoughts, he click a new tab and started searching about I.C.E.

Apparently Ivory/Crimson/Evergreen or I.C.E had opened late last year. It's owner, Callum Walkden, a reclusive business man had suddenly taken a step down from his thriving businesses and instead opened up I.C.E. in Sioux Fall. The club planned its full launch in the summer but word of mouth about the new club and its billionaire owner had its doors packed even in the middle of spring.

Sam could feel his eyes widening the more he read up on Callum. He had worked with Richard Roman Enterprises but had broken ties not long after. He had friends in all levels of high society. It was a little strange that a little under two years ago he'd just stepped back from his life of success to suddenly open up a night club in Sioux Falls of all places. Not to say that it wasn't a good place. It's just that there were bigger cities that he could thrive in. Of course with the money he was reported as having, it could also have been that it wasn't a matter of making money as it was doing something he'd always wanted to. He couldn't judge this man based on the articles he'd read. If anyone had read up on him and Dean their first assumption would be that they were criminals who'd done heinous things. Maybe Callum had gotten tired of the cutthroat business life.

Regardless, his nightclub seemed to be in the middle of a supernatural murder spree and it was up to them to figure out what was going on.

He looked up as he heard the front door open. A smile bloomed on his face as Dean walked into the dining room holding two take out containers. He nodded at Sam returning the smile before saying, “Find anything good?” and putting the items in his hand on the table.

“I've just been doing some research on the club. Unfortunately because it's so new, most of the articles are about how “hype” it is.” He made air quotes when he said the word.

“What does that mean?” Dean frowned a little before sitting down and digging into his meal, a massive cheese burger.

“Hell if I know,” Sam said before pushing his laptop away and going after the other container. “Dude. You got me a burrito bowl?”

“Don't worry. No beans,” Dean said around a mouthful. Sam made an offended sound in his throat to which Dean looked up and grinned. “What? Who says you have to suffer and eat healthy? This stuff's good for you. I read a review somewhere.”

Sam gave him a look at that.

“Shut up,” Dean said with passing annoyance before taking another bite of his burger. Sam took a mouthful as he watched Dean devour his meal. He put the spoon down and looked at Dean a little.

“We gotta talk about you Dean.”

Dean gave him a questioning look before getting up to get a beer for himself. “Getting a drink. Want one?” he asked as he headed into the kitchen.

“Sure.”

Dean sat down next to him after a moment. “What's this about now,” he said as he pushed a bottle closer to Sam.

“You need to start taking better care of yourself dude. You're not twenty five anymore and all this shit you're eating is going to catch up to you really soon.”

Dean laughed, surprised. “That's what you wanted to talk about? I thought it was something serious.”

Suddenly Sam was upset. It just came out of nowhere. He hated when Dean did that. “It _is_ serious Dean. You just turned thirty nine. You'll be forty next year. You think you'll be able to keep living the same way forever? You have to stop eating all this shit. The alcohol. The – the burgers... Your metabolism's gonna eventually slow down and it'll catch up to you.”

“Sam. Come on.”

“No Dean. I don't know why but it just hit. Time's going by fast. I know you always thought that you'd go out fighting so you never really worried about it but we know that Death kind of doesn't stick when it comes to us so you can't use that devil may care attitude anymore.”

“Sam–”

“Dean.” He said forcefully. “You promised me you'd never leave me alone. You told me to bet everything I had on that promise.”

Suddenly Dean was sitting straighter in the chair. He put the rest of the burger down and Sam knew that he had his full attention now. That promise between them was new, but it meant everything. “What do you think is going to happen in maybe five years when you die of a heart attack? You promised me that you would not leave me and I'm holding you to it Dean. I think you really need to consider our future. When this case is done you need to take some time to think about how serious you were because the way you are right now, you won't be able to keep that promise and I swear if you go anywhere I'll be right there behind you. I swear it!”

Dean stood up and motioned to him.

“Dean?” he asked, pulled away from his thoughts.

“Come here brother.” Dean gestured to him, arms open.

“What?” Sam asked confused as he stepped into his arms.

“You're shaking Sammy.” he said as his arms wrapped around Sam tightly. As soon as he said it, Sam could feel it. It felt like he was having a panic attack. He wrapped his own arms around Dean just as tightly as he let the tremors rush through his body. It felt like all of a sudden he was sure that in less than five years Dean would some how die. He remembered this feeling. It was the same feeling he got the night after they rescued Dean from Yantho. It was still so overwhelming this sense of impending doom for someone else. He just knew he couldn't survive life without Dean. He didn’t even want to imagine it because it made his heart hurt so badly.

“I didn't know this was so important to you Sam.” Dean whispered as he threaded his fingers into the back of Sam's hair gently, almost soothingly. “You're right. I never thought about it before. It was just the life. Eat what you want, different town every night. You might not wake up the next day so why not do what you wanted but you're right Sammy and I'm sorry.”

Sam buried his face in Dean's neck as he felt himself starting to calm down. “Dean...” he breathed in deeply that comforting scent and he pushed away the idea that he might not always have it.

Dean pulled away slightly, looking him in the eye as he said. “I _am_ sorry Sammy and I'll do better. I promise.” An overwhelming sense of relief flooded through him and he smiled tentatively at his big brother, grateful. He pulled Dean back in close again.

“Thank you,” he whispered with feeling into his neck.

“Am I... interrupting something,” Jody's sudden question startled them and both men looked up, Dean's neck swiveling as best as he could to see her.

She had this massive grin on her face. “You know what? I don't wanna know.” She walked into the kitchen as they separated.

“Why are you back so early? Did something happen?” Sam asked as he sat back in front of his computer.

“I'm working a little bit later tonight on the case. The mayor wants to know that it’s a priority for the sheriff’s department so I'll be with the boys at the crime scene. There's also some media stuff. So I came to get my dress uniform. It’s a whole dog and pony show,” she waved it off. “Since I was coming home anyway I thought I’d make you guys some dinner for later.”

“Jody you don't have to do that. We can feed ourselves,” Sam was quick to say.

“Well I did promise you some home cooking,”

“We didn't come here just to make you cook for us. We came to help you. We can help ourselves. Besides we won't be here tonight,” Sam insisted

“Oh? Where ya headed?”

“Sam and I are going to scope out that club I.C.E.” Dean chimed in as he sat back at the table, burger pushed to the side.

“Do you need back up?” She asked, on alert. Sam could almost see the wheels in her mind turning. He had a theory that Jody might actually like killing vamps a little more than was sane which meant that she fit in well with the other hunters. They were all a little bit murder happy.

“No no. We're just going to look around for now to see the lay of the building.”

“You know I might have to mention the club in my press conference.”

“Could you not mention the name? Maybe just let people know that you've found a connection to a club but it's circumstantial. We're not 100% sure the club even is involved,” Sam asked.

“You know it is.”

“Yea but we don't have hard proof yet and it might spook the perp.”

“The mayor is pushing hard on it but I'll keep it vague.”

“Thanks.”

“Well since I'm no longer needed here. I'll leave you boys to whatever it is I walked in on. Carry on,” and she walked out chuckling.

“We weren’t...” Sam spluttered.

“Way to convince her Sammy.”

-

They were seated at a table close to the back of the room. The area was secluded and partially closed off which offered them privacy while still giving them a great view of the entrance and the entire pub. Sam had to admit that it was a much better looking place than they were used to visiting. For one, while it maintained the basic _feel_ of a pub – wooden stools, bar, pool area, it also felt like a mid to high class restaurant. There was a huge slightly tinted window encompassing the entire front wall. It seemed like it could be pulled back to open onto a patio at street level. The furniture and build had a streamline look to it while keeping that pub aesthetic.

They'd arrived at half past nine. The club part of the mix wouldn't officially open until ten pm so they were just sitting in the pub talking casually while maintaining an air of alertness and observation. Sam had noticed that there was a separate entrance to the club however someone could also enter through the pub's long back hallway.

There were big bold letters above the bar, ‘EVERGREEN’ and Sam could see hints of the colour scattered through out. There were several people in the huge space either at the bar talking casually or having late night dinner at the tables that were scattered attractively through out. Most of them seemed to have chosen the more well lit areas closer to the center, further isolating Sam and Dean in their little alcove.

For the hundredth time, Sam's eyes roved over Dean covertly. His brother was an attractive man on any given day. That was an undisputed fact but when he tried like he was tonight, he could be so gorgeous that it was hard to look at him.

He was wearing a light blue dress shirt under a black blazer and jeans that hugged him in all the right places. The top button of his dress shirt was undone, showing Sam a tease of collarbone every time he moved. He hadn't even known that he found collarbones attractive but he wanted to feel Dean's under his teeth. He wanted to mark that freckled skin so everyone would know that someone had already claimed this gorgeous man.

“Dude are you even listening,” Dean asked.

“What?”

"What do you mean what? I'm not some ditchable prom date you know?"

"Alright, alright. Just tell me again."

Dean opened his mouth to talk but both of them turned their heads towards the back hallway as a dull vibration started to travel through the floor.

It seemed that the club was getting ready to open. They'd passed a long lineup at the club’s entrance when they'd just arrived so there was no doubt that the place would be packed.

"One more then we'll go?" Sam asked. Dean nodded as he made a motion to a passing waiter.

Dean turned back to face him and leaned a little onto the table as he turned his body slightly. "I've gotta say, it's been a while since I've gone to a place like this."

Sam scoffed a little at that. A soft smile played on his lips as he imagined his brother at a club.

"You." His tone was filled with disbelief. "Dean Winchester. At a club. I don't believe it."

"Why not?"

"Well - " he paused as their waiter placed two fresh bottles in front of them, ferrying away the empty ones.

"Come on. Why not," Dean asked impatiently. He was already focusing his laser vision on Sam.

"Well you're like Mr. Serious. A club is a place for fun. Plus I can't imagine you dancing." He took a deep swallow of his drink as he tried to blank his mind from trying to imagine just that.

"You forget Sammy. Clubs are a great way to meet chicks and you don't have to be good at dancing in there. You just gotta move your hips. If you know what I mean," he wagged his eyebrows suggestively. He'd been trying so hard to not think about Dean in some dark club but he couldn't stop now that he was. "Besides, I have moves." This he said offended as he turned away and took a drink from the bottle but Sam noticed the smile on his face so he smiled too.

"Yeah. Stab and slash aren't moves dude."

"Oh yeah? Well what about you college boy."

"What about me?" Sam knew well what he was asking but he didn't want to talk about this because it made him think too much about Jess.

"Come on Sammy. I'm doing all the work here."

"What?" Sam asked taking another long swallow from his drink.

"What do you mean what. Conversation. I say one thing you answer and repeat."

"Dean. We're on a case right now. So I’m sorry for wanting to focus on that."

"We still got some time to kill so talk to me. Besides, all work and no play makes Sam a dull boy."

"Fine. I mainly studied."

"You didn't go out at all?"

"I did a few times with Jess and some friends but mainly I studied. I was on a scholarship and couldn't risk losing it."

"And?"

"And what?"

"It's like pulling teeth with you. Did you like it?"

"Well I had a gorgeous woman with me. But truthfully I didn't like how... desperate the whole thing felt. Everyone was drunk and they all seemed like they wanted to deliberately make reckless decisions. Some people I knew only went out to go home with strangers.”

“That's the whole point of a club Sam,” Dean chuckled but there was something in his eyes. It almost looked like sadness or maybe regret.

“Laugh all you want but I just didn't like it. It wasn't my scene.”

“I promise I am not laughing at you. It's just you never change. You really don’t and you don't have to. In this family you are the gentleman and I am the slut and that's fine.” He’d taken on a self deprecating tone which Sam did not like. Dean had a habit of saying these things about himself that were not true and Sam was starting to think that he was buying his own press.

“Dean...”

“No Sammy. It's true. Besides if Julia Roberts could pull it off so can I.”

Sam didn’t say anything for a while. He watched as Dean absently peeled at the label on his bottle like he was trying to come to some decision.

“I've been thinking about what you said earlier today and you were right. I've been living very fast and loose.” Dean had this haunted look in his eyes as he shook his head and said. “You have a way of digging up things I’ve been trying to bury for years and now it’s playing on a loop in my head. I can’t seem to escape it anymore.”

They both lapsed into a long silence. Sam could feel his heart thundering because this was an opening. Dean very rarely opened himself up to talking like this and Sam knew that whatever happened right now, their relationship would change forever. He didn’t move a muscle as his mind raced. He didn’t want to make the wrong move but if he didn’t do something soon, the moment would pass and who knew when Dean would willingly volunteer to talk candidly again. “Can you tell me what you've been thinking about?” He finally settled on after taking a deep calming breath. He could listen and be available for his brother right now.

“I don't know if you'll want to hear it.”

“I always want to hear what you have to say Dean. You are usually the one who runs away from talking so if you want to talk now, I promise I'm here to listen.”

“I don't even know where to start.” Dean said after a while.

“Just say anything.”

“I...think that I haven’t really been paying attention to myself and the things I have been doing. Not for a long time. I mean we’ve talked about my habits a little before but it was always in this matter of fact, almost joking way. Like I knew you wouldn’t push me on it. But I was always secretly afraid that one day you’d get serious so every time you let it go after a joke a small part of me felt so relieved. I knew that one day you wouldn’t back down though and I’d have to come face to face with the worst parts of myself then but I didn’t want to.” He looked at Sam for a brief moment before going back to peeling the bottle. “There are things in my head man, that are so messed up. If you were to stare at them too long they’d make you lose your mind.”

He paused for a moment and took a ragged breath before continuing. “I’ve had some moments when the monsters were too close to the surface but I’ve always been able to bury it with denial and alcoholism. But I can’t – can’t seem to escape from it anymore Sammy.” He sounded angry and frustrated. “It keeps coming back man. It’s like I’m going in circles in my head and I can’t stop it.”

Sam’s hands were clenched so tightly, he could feel his nails digging into his palms. He was using the pain to anchor himself. He hadn’t heard Dean sounding this vulnerable and lost in decades. He desperately wanted to do something. Take his hand, hug him, anything to let him know that he wasn’t alone in whatever battle was going on in his head but he could see that Dean was under some kind of spell. The words were pouring out of him now like water out of a faucet and all Sam could do was sit there and listen to the man he admired more than anyone else in the world, open up to him finally. All he could do was hold himself back with all his willpower and let him.

“I've just been trying to figure out why I am the way I am. Eating crap, sleeping with strangers, the drinking, driving recklessly, commitment issues. Just all of it and I think... no I know. All of this–” he gestured at himself with slight disgust. “–is because of the life we live. It's just that I didn't realize how much it _really_ affected me.” He stopped for a moment and looked at Sam. “Are you sure you want to hear this? I mean it's kinda depressing. I'll probably need to drink until it's wiped from my memory again later as it is.”

“I do want to hear Dean,” Sam insisted. “but I think more than me hearing, you need to be able to say it.”

Dean shrugged and said, “When I was younger, I don’t remember exactly how old, maybe seven or so, one of dad's hunter friends came to stay with us for a little while. He had a son, Jacob and he was only a little older than me so we were friends. At the time I thought you were annoying. You were still a baby. Dad and his friend – I don't even remember his name. They were hunting some monster together. They didn't tell us what it was but I didn't really care anyway. I never got to make friends who knew about the life you know or any friends at all. I just wanted to play and have fun with someone my age for a change. No offence to baby brothers but you just couldn’t hold your end of the conversation back then. Anyway all I wanted to do was play but Jacob was obsessed with being a hunter and one night, maybe about two weeks after we met, he overheard his dad talking about where he would find the monster. Jacob wanted to prove that he could be a hunter too. It’s all he ever talked about, so he snuck out early. His plan was to get there before the adults and kill the thing so that when they arrived he'd be able to prove that he was ready. I tried to convince him to stay but he wouldn't listen. I was freaking out so badly cause I just had this bad feeling. I mean we were kids. It was a monster. I tried calling dad but the SOB didn’t always answer his phone. After I called and called and called he finally answered. I can’t imagine what that phone call sounded like on his end. I was panicking, you were crying. I think you could tell that I was upset. I told him what had happened and that was the first time he swore in front of me. He hang up after telling me to watch over you.”

“He came back hours later bleeding from a wound in his side. He didn't say much. Just made me pack our stuff. You had finally cried yourself to sleep so I carried you to the car and we left town. I knew that something really bad had happened. I had this feeling of just... wrong but I was so god dammed afraid to ask. I think I was thinking that if I didn't hear it, my friend would still be alive, just maybe in a different city or something.”

“Dean...”

“I know. It's pathetic.”

“I don't think that at all. You were seven. How could that be pathetic? Why didn't you ever tell me?”

“It was stupid Sammy. I thought that if I never said his name again then it would be like it didn’t happen.”

“Dean...”

“I know. I think that was the first time I really understood how shitty our lives were going to be. Then it was like now that I'd been exposed to death, suddenly people just kept dying around me and I think I started to realize that that was going to be me one day too. I didn't want to die Sammy but it seemed that I didn't have a choice. I remember being afraid all the time. One day I just stopped caring. I think I wanted to have control over my life in some way you know. If I was going to die on some monster’s claws then I was going to enjoy the life I had until then. I'd do what I want and live like today was my last because it might actually be. That was my rule. Life sucks so I’ll do what I want.

“You saved me from the worst of it though. I was angry with Dad for forcing me into the life. If he'd just been normal then I could be like the other kids at school but instead he was on this stupid quest to find some demon and not only that but he was always telling me to look out for you. I think I was a little jealous of how much he cared about you because he made me do all these horrible things but he sheltered and protected you. I think I only took care of you in the beginning because I was a little bit afraid of him. Why should I give up my fun to look after this kid who always ate my food.

“The day the Shtriga attacked you changed everything. What I hadn’t known at the time was that Dad had been hunting that Shtriga because it preyed on kids. I never understood why he was always telling me to look out for you when nothing ever tried to hurt you. He never brought us anywhere close to danger. But that day, that day Sammy...” Dean trailed off. His eyes glazed over as he sunk further into his memories.

“Dad knew that if he hunted the thing it might come for us. But you didn’t know about the life because you were still so young and he wanted to keep you out as long as possible so I had to be the one to protect you. But he never told me _why_ so I left you alone and you almost died. I couldn't save you just like I couldn't save my friend. I froze. After the Shtriga got away, I started to realize that Dad was right. I had to protect you. Not just from that monster but from any of the horrible things in our lives.”

“So you only cared about protecting me because I reminded you of your friend?”

Dean ran his hand in his hair in frustration. “No. That's not what I'm saying. I only knew Jacob for two weeks. You were my brother. The two things aren't even in the same universe.”

“Then explain it to me so I can understand.”

“I learned that life was very fragile at a young age. There’s a difference between knowing about death and _knowing_ about death. One day I was playing with my new friend and a few hours later, he was gone forever. I thought you were annoying but you were still my kid brother. I'm _supposed_ to think you're annoying. But when that thing attacked you, I realized how quickly you could have been gone too. If I'd just been out a few minutes more, you would have _died_ Sammy. You can’t begin to imagine what thinking about that at that age did to me. The idea of not having you to steal my food and bug me and look at me with those big puppy eyes was just too much. I swore then that Dad would _never_ have to tell me to look out for you again. I'd _make sure_ that nothing bad ever happened to you. I'd do _anything_ to make sure that you didn’t end up in that kind of danger again. That's why I was so happy when you left. Don’t get me wrong. I hated that you were gone but I was _happy_ that you weren't close to this horrible life anymore.”

“You could have left too Dean.”

“I really couldn't have,” he shook his head as he said the words. “I would never have been able to leave you there, still in the life. Besides, you and Dad would have killed each other. Anyway I’d never be able to be happy somewhere else knowing that you might be in danger. I wasn't stuck there Sammy. I chose to stay. I had chances to leave but I just couldn't leave you there alone. Dad was a great hunter but I always felt like I could protect you better. Like it was my job – my mission to keep you safe.

“I think my greatest regret in life is that you're still _right_ here. That you were out but I dragged you back in because I wanted you with me. I _thought_ that I could keep you safe. And still Sammy, after I failed so many times, I _can't_ let you go. I don't want you to be in this life more than anything, but I need you where I can see that you are safe... alive. The problem is that I only know how to be a hunter. It’s driving me crazy man. Instead of pushing you away like I should, I just won’t let go.

“When you told me you wanted to change our relationship. A part of me was so relieved. I thought, _He’ll never be able to leave me now_. It was so selfish and greedy. I want everything. I want to monopolize your time, your life, your thoughts. It's sick and pathetic. That’s why even though I didn't want to, I tried to give you an out. That's why I'm still fighting myself even now not to take everything I know you're offering. I want to hold you prisoner. And I know it's wrong but I don't care and I try to fight that part of me but I don't think I can. Worst is I’m doing it for _me._ Even though I swore I’d protect you. I need you to keep me sane, to remind me I’m human. So you were right to say that I treated you like a toy. You're my kid brother. This kind of obsessive behaviour–”

Dean stopped when Sam slammed some bills on the table and grabbed his arm, yanking him outside of the building.

Sam had heard enough. He almost wanted to say fuck the case and drive them both home but lives were at stake so pulling a stumbling Dean along, he went to the side of the building and pushed him up against the cold wall. His brother hadn't said anything the entire time. He could see Dean withdrawing into himself. His eyes were almost empty in the scant light of the dark alleyway. He was probably expecting Sam to lash out at him and no doubt thought he deserved it.

Sam felt frustrated with everything. Why couldn’t Dean have done this when they had the time to hash this out?

“We don't have time now but Dean we _will_ talk about this later.” Dean was looking at the ground and Sam could see him sinking even further into himself. He bent down to make eye contact. “Dean. Please. Look at me.” Their foreheads touched lightly as Dean's eyes slowly tracked his in the dark. “I don't think you're pathetic or sick. If you are then I am too. Fuck! I really wish we could go home right now.”

He took a few steps away from Dean for a moment and ran an agitated hand through his hair. He knew Dean. If he didn't show him somehow that he wasn't angry, he would build a wall around himself and Sam wouldn't be able to get in. Already Dean was building his defenses. Sam could see it in his slowly changing body language.

“Fuck,” he said again, this time softer before he took two determined steps closer to his brother, crowding in his space and pressed their lips together in a clinging, desperate kiss. He pulled away when he heard the surprised gasp from Dean. He stared into his brother’s eyes again and he could see new life in them. He smiled and felt his eyes drift down to the glistening lips as Dean pulled in a quick, shuddering breath through his mouth.

Powerless against their pull, Sam moved in again for another. He moaned frantically as he got a quick taste of his brother and forced him harder against the wall in his desperation for more, to get closer. The sound Dean made shot straight through him, hardening his cock so fast it made him dizzy.

Just as he felt Dean’s mouth move against his in a needy, slick glide of lips, teeth and tongue, felt him trying to take over, he broke the contact and pulled away completely. His breath came out in ragged puffs as they both just stood there. He could see the wetness shining on Dean’s lips as his brother stared at him hungrily under hooded eyelids.

 _Fuck, Dean looked like he wanted to devour him_.

He licked his lips subconsciously. He wanted that. He wanted to go back there and see what that look in Dean’s eyes could mean but they didn’t have the time right now. Although he hated it he was right to pull away. He knew that if he’d let that kiss go where it wanted to, they’d not be able to get anything else done tonight and so turning away he said, “We can finish this later,” and started to walk away. “Come on. Let's get this job over with.” He didn’t turn around to see if Den was following. Instead he held his tightly clenched fists in front of him as he tried to control the slight tremor in them and made his way back into the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the angst.


	24. Why Can't I Keep My Fingers Off You Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You cannot imagine how hard this chapter was. Actually this is only 1/3 of the chapter but it was taking so GOD DAMNED FREAKING long to edit so I cut it off or I wouldn't be able to post until like next week or something. So please forgive me if there are mistakes. The words were starting to blur and also give me some love and tell me what you thought even if you thought it sucked XD.
> 
> Drunken Love - Beyonce
> 
> I don't know why but that's the song I kept thinking of as I wrote this part of the chapter. It's not really a Sam song but well yea. Also thank you for the amazing people who left comments and kudos in the last chapter. You always make my day <3

Sam could feel his annoyance and impatience mounting. He was reminded for the second time that night why he did not like the whole club scene. The loud music thrummed through him and the heavy bass of the current song rattled his teeth causing his head to hurt. He rubbed at his temples frustratedly and closed his eyes against the strobing lights that periodically seared his retinas. The sooner they could get this over with and leave, the happier he would be. He turned away from the bar to look around in an attempt to distract himself from his discomfort.

The club looked like any other from what he could see. There was a huge open floor filled with wildly dancing people, decorative yet uncomfortable looking chairs and tables lining a few of the walls and the red themed bar had the word Crimson hanging over it, bold and lit up. He was beginning to notice a pattern with the colours. First with Evergreen and now Club Crimson. There had to be an Ivory somewhere–

He was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts when a young woman jostled him. She giggled an insincere apology as she stumbled away with her drink balanced precariously in hand. Sam grimaced distastefully, checking to make sure she hadn't spilled anything on him.

He was ready to be done with the whole night and turned to Dean with a look he hoped said exactly that. They both knew that it was more than likely they wouldn't really find anything. The plan was simply to get a lay of the land. See if they could spot anything about the place that made it easy for a predator to find their prey.

The sooner they could leave though, the better. He wanted to talk to Dean some more about the things he'd shared earlier. It was pressing on his mind and if he was being honest, they probably should not have stayed after Dean's confession. That was the kind of thing that caused distractions on the job and he was definitely distracted. It's just that he knew where his priorities should be.

It didn't stop him from feeling impatient though. He wanted some time to figure out what all of this meant. To make sure that Dean understood that he didn't hate him for the things he thought and felt. He'd thought that the kiss was enough at the time, but now he was starting to have doubts. He needed to be sure, to hear it from Dean's lips that he knew that they were okay but they couldn't leave until they'd done their job properly. He knew that which is why he felt so frustrated.

Dean gave him an exasperated look before he gestured towards a different part of the room. He must have also agreed that the bar wasn't really lending them any advantage. With an exaggerated huff, Sam nodded, barely able to contain his relief when Dean turned and started wading his way through the sea of people.

He put down the drink he'd only gotten for appearance's sake anyway and followed the retreating back of his older brother. Dean was already heading to his chosen destination, a corner of the room that offered a better vantage point.

They had initially stopped at the bar under the guise of getting drinks to survey the room, but the club was crowded, even this early in the night and it quickly became obvious that unlike most of the pubs they visited, the bar wasn't the best place to linger. For one, the constant noise made it impossible to carry a conversation without yelling and the kind of conversation they would need to have could probably get them arrested.

Sam weaved his way through the room and took a spot next to Dean against the far wall. Dean had chosen a corner of the room that was less populated but allowed them to see most of the room.

-

To the casual observer, the two attractive men leaning against the wall appeared relaxed and several young women paused, bravely considering their chances. However they were anything but. They expertly guided away the few who were able to muster up the courage to approach them as they continuously scanned the floor, looking for anything that seemed suspicious or stood out in any way.

Sam made another sweep of the room before his eyes landed naturally again on Dean. He kept finding himself distracted from the task he was supposed to be doing. His mind kept drifting back to their earlier conversation... and the kiss.

He had taken a huge risk and he honestly wasn't sure where to go from there. On one hand, Dean had asked for a break. He'd been adamant in that request even. Sam had seen the anguish and confusion in his eyes as Dean implored him to understand. There was no one he respected more than his brother so kissing him despite knowing how he felt seemed almost like a betrayal.

On the other hand however, Dean didn't actually seem very upset about the whole thing. In fact he seemed more at ease than Sam could remember him being in a long while. He was angled slightly towards Sam with an unreadable smile on his face that confused the hell out of him. Dean was leaning in so close that he was practically violating Sam's personal bubble. Although where was that bubble when it came to him anyway? They practically lived in each other's pockets at this point which is why Sam wasn't sure if it was his imagination or that Dean was leaning in closer than usual.

What it came down to was that Dean seemed okay with what had happened between them.

It didn't justify what he had done though, especially as he remembered clearly the last time he'd attempted to kiss Dean and more importantly, his adverse reaction to it. He'd practically pushed Sam away from him in disgust. In fact most of the tension that had been between them was as a result of that almost kiss. It was just that Dean had looked so... lost sitting across from him and there was no way he could ever ignore Dean when he was hurting like that.

Now though, he couldn't help feeling like Dean was sending him some pretty strong signals.

His eyes kept darting around the room alertly but it always ended on Sam. Even in the semi darkness he could see the hard smile Dean was aiming at him every time their eyes met.

He could feel this almost overwhelming sense of anticipation and anxiousness running skittishly beneath his skin. Like he could tell that something was going to happen but he didn't know what and he didn't know how to deal with it. But whatever it was was responding to the signals broadcasting loud and aggressively from Dean.

He turned away from his brother to do another sweep of the room and to escape the intensely promising look in Dean's eyes.

Again he felt disconnected from what was going on on the dance floor. There were lots of men and women doing an approximation of dancing. The pulsing lights shone on them in a chaotic rush of colour.

He felt a touch on his shoulder, the heat of a large palm pulling him in and stealing his attention. He turned into it, drawn in by the familiarity, and yet he could tell that there was something new there. Something dangerous and it should scare him, it did scare him. Dean had touched him a million times in a million different ways but this had intention behind it. He could feel it. Like that thing that had been pulsing between them all night.

And still, knowing that, he let himself be pulled in, to feel Dean's warm breath on the shell of his ear. He almost felt guilty with how willing he was to let Dean steer him where he wanted. The darkness surrounding them somehow felt like permission and he hunched over slightly breathing in deep as he was enveloped in Dean's enticing scent.

"Even I have better moves than that,” Dean whispered to him from behind. His words raspy from disuse and grating along Sam's nerve endings. “What are they even doing?” he continued. “They might as well be fucking."

Without warning, a hyper vivid image of the two of them, naked, straining and sweaty flashed before his eyes. It seemed shockingly real, especially with Dean so close. His eyes fluttered shut against the appealing mental assault and his body loosened, relaxing slightly against Dean for a moment, letting the images fade.

He felt dazed as he struggled to compose himself. If this was all it took to shake him then he wouldn't survive whatever Dean was planning. The truth is that he had been expecting something from Dean all night, yet the crude words still took him by surprise. Maybe it was the suddenness in which Dean went from focused on the job to attacking... He felt somewhat like prey caught in the grips of a predator.

If he hadn't been the target, Sam would have felt impressed with how subtle but relentless Dean was in both invading his space and putting him where he wanted. Dean slid in closer against his side until all Sam could feel was the hard, hot wall of him – a scorching line of firm muscle from chest to pelvis burning into his arm so hot that the rest of him felt chilled by comparison.

All he could hear and feel and smell was Dean. Sam didn't even notice that he was subconsciously moving his body to better accommodate him.

"I mean I get it,” Dean continued to say. “A place like this. It puts ideas in your head. Makes you think that you can do anything and get away with it,” rubbing his lips deliberately, teasingly against the skin just behind Sam's ear.

Sam failed at suppressing the tremor that escaped as the moist heat of the words blasted his nape with a punch of force, scorching him further. Dean's voice reverberated within him at a bass designed to make him hard and he groaned weakly when it did just that. He whimpered from the ghost of his brother's lips when Dean's smile brushed against him for a second. Dean had felt the tremor that shook his body.

"But if it were me Sammy...” Their bodies sliding against each other as the oblivious club continued to pump out heart pulsing music. “I wouldn't be on the dance floor. Instead," he promised as he slowly worked his way in front of Sam and giving up all pretence of subtlety, crowded him up against the wall. Dean was effectively blocking any escape he could make.

And Sam just let this happen, helpless.

"Instead I'd get them in a corner where they couldn't escape.” He used a little of that strength that had saved their lives countless times to manhandle his younger brother where he wanted. It wasn't gentle, almost bruising even, as he pressed Sam in against the wall to emphasize his point before loosening the punishing grip and rubbing his stubbled chin against Sam in apology. “...and show them just how much I really wanted them."

There was something wrong with him, Sam thought powerlessly. The idea of Dean holding him prisoner and making him do what he wanted _really_ worked for him. He was a quivering mess as Dean basically did as he pleased. Sam even arched his back slightly when he felt the whispery trails of his brother's hands sliding over his lower abdomen and back. Dean kicked his legs open to make room for his large body and Sam, blissed out from all the attention, happily complied. He went where Dean's hands led him and slid down against the wall until they were snug up against each other where there was no doubt that both of them were very much into what was happening. Dean was shameless as he continued to force him down on his clothed dick and Sam just took it, spreading his legs wider and leaving his body pliant in Dean's grasp. When Dean was satisfied, he practically rumbled his content. He'd gotten them situated to the point where Sam could feel the hard outline of him pressed up behind his balls and he could feel his ass clenching tightly, desperate and ready for what Dean was promising.

They weren't even looking at the dance floor anymore. Sam could tell that his hair was all over the place, disarrayed and wild from Dean dragging him down against the wall and he didn't even care because Dean was no longer content with staying above their clothing. He slowly rucked up Sam's shirt, exposing his abs to his greedy view before gliding his hands slowly up Sam's sweaty back. He could feel the goosebumps rising on his flesh everywhere Dean touched him but he was starting to get self conscious because by the time Dean was satisfied, most of his chest was bared. He'd worked hard for his body and he wasn't ashamed of it but he didn't want to expose it to the world even if it was dark in the club.

“Dean. Come on,” he said, unsure if his brother could even hear him over the pound of the bass. Probably not because Dean leaned into him, pressing his clothed body against Sam's naked one with barely contained excitement. Sam had never felt more like Dean's possession than he did in that moment. It was like he was that toy he'd accused Dean of thinking he was and Dean couldn't wait to explore and discover. He mouthed a little at Sam's neck as he continued to trail his fingertips along his body, gripping at his flesh at random periods like he wanted to prove to himself that Sam was real, solid. At some point, Sam had given up on trying to hold back and was openly moaning and whimpering against him.

Dean grazed his teeth against the pounding flesh at his neck, biting with a hint of a threat before soothing the bruise with drugging pulls of his mouth. He pressed his lips hard against Sam's ear. “You should hear the sounds you're making Sammy. You sound like you're coming apart and I haven't even done _half_ of the things I want to do to you yet.” The words were said bitingly, almost savagely whispered like Dean could barely hold back all the things he was thinking and feeling and that _did_ things to Sam. He knew that he was giving Dean too much control over him but it just felt so _good_.

Without warning, Dean pulled away slightly. He stopped everything he was doing and just stood there, hands on Sam's skin, hips flushed against him, pulsingly hard and patiently waiting.

Sam slowly started to come to himself when all sensation stopped, hooded eyes opening in confusion as Dean stared at him intently, intensely. Trapping him in that unwavering gaze, his hands started to slide down Sam's back, and he _didn't stop_. His fingers pushed in at the waist of his pants, sliding down tortuously slow until the palm of both hands were holding tightly to firm, bare skin. Sam felt naked. Exposed. Overwhelmed. Especially as Dean refused to break eye contact. He wanted Sam to know what he was doing as he gripped his ass tightly. His large fingers, calloused from working the weapons that saved their lives regularly, felt like they were just _everywhere_ and any moment now Sam was going to start hyperventilating. He didn't know where to focus and against his will, his eyes started to lower again, settling at half mast as Dean spread him apart, exposing his quivering hole to the warm air before gripping his cheeks hard.

“Dean...” he moaned emphatically. He knew that Dean wouldn't hear him but he couldn't help it. Dean gave him a sharp nod, satisfied with whatever he had been trying to accomplish and slid back in close.

Sam let out a gasp of surprise as Dean bit his ear slightly. “Love how much you want me. I could make you come right here and no one else would know but me and you right? Think I can do it Sammy?”

He was pretty sure that Dean could. He was already almost there and Dean had started up a slow undulation that rubbed their two cocks together in a slow tortuous grind that was just this side of too much. It was perfect. Dean was perfect. He always knew what Sam needed, pushing him up against the wall with each of his hard thrusts, like a ragdoll. And hitting some buttons in him he was just starting to become aware of. Sam hadn't even realized that he was clutching onto Dean tightly as breathy choked out sounds forced their way out of his throat.

“Come on brother, answer me. Tell me you'd let me make you come right here in this club. I want to hear you say it.”

Sam's eyes flew open at that. The reminder pulled him out of that drugged pleasurable place so fast it made him dizzy. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten why they were there. They were supposed to be on a case. People were getting murdered but he was too busy getting off on Dean touching him. Immediately, he stood up straight, and pushed Dean away at arm's length, fixing his clothing. He ignored the sweat dripping down his body and blew his hair out of his face before using his free hand to push it back distractedly. He didn't want to know what he looked like right then.

“Stop,” he forced out weakly. “We're supposed to be on a case.” He wasn't sure if Dean had heard him until he stopped. Sam could actually see the change as it happened in him.

Dean straightened slowly and stepped away from him, unashamed of the hardness that was clearly visible in the partial light. It was such a deliberate action and Sam couldn't help feeling that Dean was only biding his time, that he wasn't done with him yet. He had that look in his eyes still for one thing.

He didn't know what had changed but clearly something had, because Dean wasn't running away anymore. In fact he seemed like he was on a mission to take Sam apart and he wasn't sure how to react to that. He didn't know this Dean and it confused him.


	25. More and More...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The NSFW portion of the story is finally starting lol. I didn't think it would take this long to get there but finally we're here. The boys aren't gonna be doing toooooo much on the case because it's a case but they will be doing some stuff. They're gonna be in Sioux Falls for a few more days and then head home. THEN all they will probably be doing is exploring the new relationship. 
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to Faraway22 and xxxxwitlee who both made comments that helped me refine the chapter into something much richer and with more depth. 
> 
> I'm eager to know what you think of this chapter XD
> 
> eevee - I wonder if we're dead

Dean fixed his jacket slowly, it was almost calculated, the way he rolled his shoulders under the material. He leaned into Sam again and he tensed. He was suddenly not sure what to expect. Would Dean ignore his wishes and continue where they had left off? Would he have to get more forceful? Sam braced himself, strengthening his resolve. He was ready to push Dean away if he needed to.

“This is a buss,” Dean said loudly into his ear. “Let's circle the floor to see if anything stands out and then get out of here. We'll have to look at it at a different angle in the morning.” The hot punch of the words hitting his skin added to the heat already rushing through him. It took him a moment to realize that something was off. He frowned for a second in confusion. Dean had delivered the words in a very businesslike manner, without a hint of the arousal that had been between them not even minutes ago.

Sam could feel his eyebrows rising but he nodded warily. He'd expected at least some protest or push back from his brother but Dean was giving him nothing to go off on. It was suspicious, he decided. Dean seemed to be completely unaffected, suddenly serious when he had been all over him only a little while ago.

Dean's easy acceptance bothered him for some reason. It felt like he didn't care one way of the other what they did and Sam was almost tempted to look down to see if he could catch a glimpse of the proof he'd felt earlier from him. He could feel his doubts starting to kick in, question after question forcing their way to the forefront of his mind. Did it mean nothing to Dean? Was he faking it? Did Dean feel even half as excited about this as him? Did any of it actually even happen? Maybe he'd slipped into a temporary coma. Was this punishment for something he'd done? Shaking his head he pushed the negative thoughts away for the moment.

He tried to pull his shirt down as subtly as he could, fanning it away from his large frame in hopes that it would hide his own obvious interest. Dean was acting weird but Sam had been the one who'd put a stop to whatever was going on between them and they did have a job to do.

He cleared his throat in an attempt to distract himself from the pent up energy still racing through him and looked at Dean. He was already continuing with his instructions and Sam rallied himself to follow along. “See if you can get anything out of the staff. Then let's meet back here in half an hour.”

“Alright,” Sam said with fake ease and they separated, Sam taking the path leading away from Dean's retreating back. He was confused as hell with everything that was going on. Was Dean messing with him after all? He'd gone back to normal easily and quickly while Sam was still reeling from the intensity of what had just happened between them.

He felt the sharp chill of humiliation mix and swirl with the high emotions he was riding as the memories returned. They'd been so lost in each other that Sam had completely forgotten where he was. He really would have let Dean do whatever he wanted. Right there in the open, where anyone could have seen.

More and more he was starting notice this foreign part in him that he had no control over. The part of him that ached to belong to Dean. The part of him that craved the feeling of being owned by Dean, letting him do whatever he wanted to him. Sam never would have thought that he was the kind of person to let anyone push him the way he allowed Dean to. There was just something about him. He didn't know what it was yet but it called out to this thing in him that threw all his inhibitions, logic and willpower out the door. Dean would look at him sometimes and he'd just want to sink to his knees and _beg_ , offer him _anything_.

Even the hot knife of humiliation running through him wasn't enough to overpower that feeling inside him.

He wanted to make Dean forget the horrors in their lives. He wanted to make Dean feel good because he _was_ good. They hadn't had many opportunities to feel happy in the last few years and if it meant that he had to do things that he normally found embarrassing then that's just what he would have to do and the certainty of that thought scared him. It scared him because he _would_ do anything. It didn't matter what it was. He would do it if Dean asked him to, if Dean needed him to.

Sam had always felt like he knew who he was inside. He'd always felt confident in knowing how he would react in any given situation. He knew his values and his guiding principles but something was becoming glaringly obvious. He would throw all of it away happily, for the chance to have Dean and that scared him. He couldn't be trusted. He _didn't_ trust himself. He was weak.

He was getting to know this part of him that was so desperate to have Dean in his life that he would do anything. The closer he looked at it, the more he was noticing that it had always been there. Sacrificing Charlie to save him. Forcing Dean away from Lisa when he had no soul. Making deal after deal... Yea, it had always been there. He'd just been very good at pretending that he couldn't see it. He'd shied away from it before but he was noticing it now. He couldn't afford not to.

-

He waded through the sea of dancers, scanning the crowd for anything or anyone suspicious. He couldn't help the impulse to turn around and see if he could catch a glimpse of his brother but in the darkness it was impossible.

-

Sam had already spoken to a few employees, when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out to see a message from Dean,

**Think I found something. Let's meet up.**

Clicking off the screen, Sam turned around and made his way back to the corner of the room they'd been in. It felt like the music was getting louder and the place more crowded. There didn't seem to be anything about the club that would attract a killer. It looked and felt like any other club, maybe a little more upscale, but still.

As he approached the corner, he noticed Dean, waiting patiently for him. Their eyes met and Dean signalled for him to follow. He started walking in the direction he'd previously gone in and Sam followed until he was able to walk alongside his brother as best he could in the crowded room. The place was ridiculously huge he was noticing again as he looked around.

After dodging and weaving through the crowd for several minutes, they finally arrived at a section of the club where the music was lower in comparison to the dance floor. There were a few tables and chairs scattered about where people were sitting and having actual conversations. Dean headed to the quietest corner and turned to him.

“Did you get anything?” he asked immediately to which Sam shook his head.

“I questioned a few employees that I could get a hold of but they didn't have any information.” Sam felt annoyed that he'd struck out but it made sense. The place was surprisingly busy and the workers had no reason to think that his questions did anything other than slow them from doing their job.

“Yeah... same here, but I did notice this hallway.” He gestured to a hallway that, through architectural design seemed to blend into the wall unless standing at a specific angle. “It wasn't marked for staff and I saw two groups head in but they didn't come back. It might be nothing but...”

“Yeah we should check it out,” Sam agreed and got off the wall he'd been leaning against. He followed Dean through the tables to the hidden hallway. They walked a short distance until they reached another hallway and immediately stopped. At one end of the new hallway was a door with the words EXIT above it. Sam assumed it was an emergency exit out of the building. At the other end of that hallway was another door, however there appeared to be a doorman of some sort guarding it. That was interesting.

Dean started towards him, Sam not far behind.

“Good evening sirs,” the man at the door greeted them. “May I see your passes?”

“Right,” Dean said holding up a hand and making attempts at searching through his clothing. “Where did I put it,” he mumbled convincingly confused. “I must have left it at home.” He turned around to look at the man. “You remember me don't you? You can just let us in this time.”

“Sorry sir. As you no doubt know the rules, the pass must be used to gain entrance. If you have misplaced yours then simply contact your representative for a replacement. As for now I regret that I am unable to allow you entrance.”

“Thanks for nothing, Jeeves,” he said sarcastically as he and Sam walked away. They made their way back down the hall to the turn that led back to the dance floor. They would be able to keep an eye on the door from there.

“So?” Sam asked. “What's the plan? We need to see what's behind that door.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean said sneaking a peek around the corner. “But accent over there won't let us in.” He sounded irritated.

“Why don't we wait him out?”

“Who knows if he will leave?” Dean disagreed.

“Yea I know,” Sam sighed. There was no guarantee that the doorman would leave but it didn't hurt to at least try. “Let's just give it a few minutes anyway.”

“I could always...” Dean paused consideringly. “...go there, knock him out and stash his body somewhere.”

“Dean! No.” Sam whispered furiously. “We are not knocking out some dude who's just doing his job.”

“Yeah yeah. He could be the killer though, you never know,” Dean grumbled as he snuck another look around the corner.

“You don't know that for sure so no.”

“I'm kidding...” he lied. “But it would be faster if we did that though,” he continued to grumble under his breath.

“We will just have to find another way. Think we can get Jody to use her position to get us in?”

“Hmm it's worth a try.” They lapsed into a small silence before, “What do you think is back there?” Dean asked quietly.

“I don't know but whatever it is, it seems fishy to me.”

“Hmm,” Dean said again as he took another quick look around the corner only to push Sam further down the hallway with urgency. “Move!” he whispered frantically. “He's coming this way.”

Sam could hear leisurely approaching footsteps and he and Dean hurried to flatten themselves against the wall, trying their best to blend in with the shadows.

However the doorman simply walked past them and continued down the hall leading towards the exit. After a few more seconds they heard a door close. They looked at each other in the dark, both listening closely for any further noise but none came.

“I can't believe he actually left!” Dean said incredibly. Sam shared in his amazement. He knew that waiting had been a long shot. The doorman might not have left at all but he wasn't going to question their sudden fortune.

“Come on, let's go,” he said to Dean, already moving off the wall. They didn't know when the man would return and they couldn't lose this opportunity.

They quickly rushed down the hallway, both looking out for anyone who might stop them. Sam gripped the door hand, hoping that it wouldn't be locked and turned the knob to find it open. Excited at their triumph, they quickly entered, shutting the door quietly behind them. It was rare to find things working so in their favour and they didn't want to blow their chances with a banging door.

They found themselves in a well let stairwell, one flight of stairs leading down.

“Guess whatever he was guarding is downstairs,” Dean mused as Sam looked around. It was a very nice looking staircase. Usually stairwells were cement grey and drab but this one had a mix of red and white paint with soft mood lighting and artistic pictures on the wall.

“Come on,” Dean said as he made his way down the stairs. Sam was right behind him, alert and watching their backs in case the doorman returned.

The stairs led down to another door and the two men entered to find a hallway almost identical to the one upstairs. The only difference was that this hallway was painted in varying tones of white, while the one upstairs had been red. There were evenly spaced columns along both sides of the hall tastefully adorned with fresh white roses and the lighting caused soft shadows along the walls.

They both quickly walked down the long hallway until they came up to a widening. It made a huge circle before tapering off to continue the hallway. It looked like someone had just cut a massive circle around the hall. To one side there was a soft looking black leather couch that fitted around the circular half where guests could wait Sam assumed and on the opposite side of the circular spacing was a doorway with the words Ivory written above it.

“Looks like we found Ivory.” Dean immediately went to the door only to find it locked. “Damn it. I knew it was too good to be true.”

“Dude chill. I brought my kit,” Sam offered, pulling out his lock picking kit.

“Won't do Sammy. It's electronic.”

Sam frowned. More and more they were encountering these kinds of problems. The increase in technology was making it difficult for them to do their jobs. He looked at the lock a little closer but there was no way he was going to be able to break into it.

They heard the dull thud of a door closing. It sounded like the upstairs door they'd just come from. They quickly looked at each other. It was one long hallway so there was no where they could hide. If it was the doorman from earlier they'd probably have to knock him out for sure.

Sam could hear footsteps echoing as the person climbed down the stairs and he made a sound of surprise when Dean pulled him forcefully towards the couch. Dean sat down and pulled Sam into his lap. Sam was all limbs and as he clumsily tried to adjust to the sudden movement. The soft leather sunk under his knees without a sound as he straddled Dean.

“What are you doing?” Sam whispered quickly.

“We don't have a choice Sam. It's either get caught down here snooping or...”

“Or?” The door down the hallway opened with a ridiculously loud squeak and he could hear footsteps.

Sam had one second to see that look in Dean's eyes again before he tangled his hands in his hair and sealed their lips in a fierce, hungry kiss. Sam made a soft, surprised sound which quickly turned into a ragged moan as he sunk lower into his brother's lap. Dean wasn't giving him any time to think. He attacked Sam's mouth like he was starved for him. His tongue licking in, demanding entrance as he slid down a little on the couch and moved Sam's body where he wanted him. Dean groaned his satisfaction harshly into Sam's mouth before he redoubled his efforts on him.

Sam moaned weakly in answer under the assault, unable to deny him as he opened his mouth under Dean's. He eagerly pushed Dean further into the back of the couch to try and take control of the kiss. He felt Dean's groan rumble through his chest to his response and he attacked Sam's mouth desperately, biting and sucking his upper lip softly as he gripped his ass with a quick knead, forcing him down harder on him.

“Fuck!” Dean swore, pulling away from Sam to catch his breath, his voice gravel, before going in again. It was like he couldn't get enough as he fucked Sam's mouth with his tongue, pulling a gasp out of him.

“Can't wait until you get inside huh?” An amused voice said.

Sam pulled away in surprise. He'd completely forgotten about the approaching footsteps in the short time that Dean had kissed him. He turned around in Dean's lap, his lips swollen and wet, as he made eye contact with a well dressed black man, who winked at them before using a key card to open the door. They caught a glimpse of a dark hallway as the door closed behind him.

Sam turned back around to look at Dean for a second. He noticed his brother's red lips and glazed, hooded eyes, locked on him intently, tracking his movements, before stiffly climbing out of his lap. He tried his best to ignore the hard outline Dean was showing off without shame.

 _What the hell were they doing?_ He wondered as he walked a few steps away and ran a nervous hand through his hair. He took several calming breaths, not looking at Dean as he tried to center himself. Neither said anything for a short eternity. Sam didn't know what _to_ say. He didn't know what was going on with him anymore. They were on a case where several people had already been killed and instead of focusing on the very real danger, he was busy trying to fuck his brother in the same place they suspected that several of the victims had been chosen from.

Not only that but he'd lost his focus during a potentially dangerous situation.

“Come on,” Dean said eventually. “We can't do anything else tonight. We'll have to see if Jody can get us into that place.”

Sam didn't say anything.

“Come on dude. Get a move on before someone else shows up. I saw an exit that way.”

Shaking himself out of the funk he was in, Sam turned to follow Dean to the exit sign at the opposite end of the hallway. They entered another door with a staircase and at the top they found that they were at the other end of the hallway upstairs. Sam quickly check for the doorman and found that he had not returned to his post yet. He gave Dean the all clear and they both left the building.

Sam turned around to see that that door also had an electronic lock and that they would not be able to get back in that way again without a pass. He turned away and started walking around the building with Dean walking at his side. They caught a glimpse of the doorman smoking and talking on the phone, his back to them. Before long they found the parking lot where Dean had left Baby and both climbed in.


	26. Dazed and Confused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it's official. This chapter kicked my butt. Still I don't like how it sounds but I've decided that I can't over think it anymore so... here it is. Forgive any errors you see.
> 
> Dazed and Confused - Led Zepplin

Sam was restless. He turned over onto his stomach again in the bed and let out a sigh laced with frustration. He buried his hands under the firm pillow to relish in the coolness he found there. He was ready to admit defeat. He wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep with the way his mind was racing. He’d been trying for a while with no success. The events of that evening were just too fresh in his mind. He lay in the darkness of the room, mind alive with the racing thoughts thoughts.

Sam would always remember that look of raw vulnerability on his brother’s face as he sat across from him at Evergreen. He could tell that Dean expected to be rejected for the possessiveness of his inner most thoughts but still bravely chose to bare them so that Sam could understand. The last time Dean had opened up so completely to him, he’d been recounting his time in hell. It was a rare sight and seeing his normally strong brother looking so vulnerable made Sam desperate to reassure him that no matter what, he would never judge him.

He didn’t know how much clearer he had to be to get Dean to understand. He was not intimidated by the obsessive nature of his feelings. In fact he wanted it. Craved it even. Hearing a confession like that when they first started travelling together might have scared him off but as they were now, he would have been disappointed if Dean didn't feel at least that much for him. They'd been through too much together.

Sam was sure that their constant dancing with death, albeit temporarily, had at least a little to do with their desperate need to keep each other alive. For most people, dying was a once in a lifetime event but they were different. Both of them had died so many different times in so many different ways. In their many years fighting the supernatural they’d learned even more ways to cheat death. But they knew that one day their luck would ran out and death would be final. That thought was always there. At least it was for Sam. It whispered in the back of his mind constantly. One day he wouldn’t be able to bring Dean back. He shied away from the paralyzing terror that thought inspired while holding onto his brother frantically.

And every time Dean died he became more desperate to bring him back. Panic stricken out of fear that that moment would be the dreaded time he couldn’t find the solution. And every time Dean drew in that deep gasp of breath, of life, that proved that he’d survived, Sam became more obsessed with keeping him. He couldn’t imagine a world where Dean wasn’t sitting next to him. He just couldn’t. And that kind of desperation could only breed obsession. He never learned fully how to live without Dean and he never wanted to. He would burn the world down if it meant he got to stay with Dean and that thought scared him because he knew how to do just that. He’d done just that before.

He didn't understand why Dean couldn’t see that they were the same. He seemed almost ashamed about how he felt. That's why he'd kissed him. Sam’d needed some definitive way to show his brother that he was more than okay with everything between them. He wanted him to understand that he felt the same need and he craved it back from Dean.

He knew that kissing him against that wall of that alley went against Dean's wishes at the time but in the moment that was the only thing he could think to do. It was the only thing that made sense.

What didn't make sense was everything else that happened after that. It was like the kiss had woken Dean and he did a complete one eighty. Suddenly he was looking for any reason to get in Sam's space. Pushing him up against the wall in the club then that kiss in the basement of I.C.E. It wasn't like Dean to forget that they were on a case but it had seemed like he was two seconds away from throwing Sam on the couch and climbing on him.

He turned over onto his back and stared up at the dark ceiling.

What was even more troubling was that Dean hadn't said anything about any it on the drive back. He didn't look upset about anything that had happened either. Instead he was relaxed, humming softly to music as he beat his thumb against the steering wheel. It wasn’t like Dean to let something like that go without comment. Despite what he always said, Dean hated conflict or unresolved issues between them and was usually the first to broach the topic to clear the air. Yet he’d not said a single thing.

With a sound of frustration, he picked up his phone off the side table.

 **Hey you up?** He sent to Dean.

Not even a minute later, his phone started ringing. He picked it up and placed it to his ear. “I figured you'd be calling sooner or later,” he heard as soon as he pressed the answer button.

“Yea well...” he said nothing else.

“What's on your mind brother?” Dean asked.

“I wanted to talk about today,”

“I figured,” Dean sighed. “Can't we just leave it as is?”

“We said we'd talk more remember? This is the kind of thing that gets us in trouble every time. I need to know where your head is right now,”

Dean sighed across the line again and Sam could hear the bed creaking softly. “I'm in a good place Sammy.”

“Really,” Sam couldn't mask the skepticism from his voice.

“Yeah. I've just decided that you're an adult and I'm going to trust that you do really want this. I'm done fighting myself man. I've told you over and over how this is gonna be and you're not running so I'm done trying to chase you away.”

“So you're saying...”

“If you want to have this, then I'm in... but maybe ease into it. At least until after we finish this case.”

It was amazing how a few sentences from his brother could put him at ease. Sam didn’t want to allow the hope that was teasing at the end of his consciousness to take over but he had a feeling that he wouldn’t have much of a choice. “Is that what we're calling what happened at the club? Restraint?”

“Dude I barely touched you.”

“Dean you pulled me into your lap when we thought we were about to get busted. We could have just as easily used the exit. You know, the one we ended up using anyway.”

“But it wouldn’t have been fun. Besides I knew it wasn't the guard. The footsteps were different and I always wanted to try kissing someone as a diversion from getting caught like they do in the movies.”

“So you practically mauled me because you wanted to kiss someone as a diversion.”

“Yup. Like Chuck Norris. This is proof my life is a movie. I'm an action star.”

“Right. You're an action star,” Sam said with so much sarcasm.

“Wait. What do you mean mauled?”

“I'm pretty sure you know what the word means,” Sam could hear the grin in his voice.

“So what you're saying is that you did not like it,” Dean hummed thoughtfully. “Which I don't believe by the way. You fucking melted against me. I bet I could have made you–”

“I was just playing it up,” Sam hurried to cut him off. He didn't want to know what Dean was about to say because the answer was going to be yes regardless. He'd have done anything Dean wanted in that moment.

“Now you're just insulting me Sammy. I felt how much you were into it man. But if you really didn't like it. I guess I'll just have to try again. A man's got his pride right?”

“Relax. I'm kidding.”

“Too late. I'm offended. You can't just insult a man's skills. Just remember, you threw the first punch.”

“Dean?” He said to no response. He pulled the phone from his ear to see the call ended notification. He heard the muffled sound of a door closing and immediately his heart started pounding.  _He wouldn't_ , he thought just as his door slid open.

Sam lifted his head in the partial darkness to get a better look. “Dean?”

“Hey,” he said as he closed the door, enshrouding them in the dark again.

“What are you doing?”

“I've got something to prove Sammy,” he said as he walked further into the room and pulled down Sam's covers.

“Dude,” Sam laughed nervously. “I was just kidding.”

He watched as Dean climbed onto the bed and straddled one of his thighs, the heat of him searing through his pant leg. “Hmm,” Dean said distractedly as he bent over Sam to look into his eyes for a second.

They stared at each other in silence before Dean lowered his head brushing their lips together softly. He slowly sank his full weight onto Sam as he settled one hand into his hair and tilted his head at the perfect angle to deepen the kiss. They both shuddered against each other at the wet slide.

This kiss was much gentler than the others between them but it felt so much more intense. Sam felt trapped by him as Dean plundered his mouth over and over again. He moved against his brother, testing, only to feel Dean tighten his hold around him. He wasn't going anywhere until Dean was ready to let him go and that fact spoke loudly to the part of him that desperately wanted to belong to Dean. He was so on edge that it felt like he was going to jump out of his skin.

Dean pulled away slightly, changing the kiss into a clinging one. He slowly trailed down along Sam's throat leaving wet sucks and bite marks before attacking his mouth again with more enthusiasm.

A soft sound escaped Sam at the new sensation and he spread his legs wider to make more room for Dean. He could feel just how hard Dean was against him and he felt an answering twitch of his own. He thrust up against Dean and they both froze.

That single action changed their light make out into something completely dangerous and he could see the calculation on Dean’s face for a split second. His heart tripled in speed because he could tell the exact moment Dean decided to throw caution to the wind and go with it.

“Why does it feel so good?” Dean asked harshly into his ear, as he started to grind down against him roughly, sealing their lips together again.

Something in him knew that Dean wasn’t going to pull away this time. That he was going to see this through all the way to the end. Maybe it was because of the determined way he was moving against Sam, like he was reaching for a goal. Maybe it was because of the tremulous gasps he made every time they connected. Maybe it was because of the way he was holding onto Sam with bruising force, like he was so caught up in sensation that he didn’t even notice how hard he was gripping him.

Sam arched his back on a jolt of pure sensation from a particularly hard thrust. It had his toes curling and his breath punching out of him. Their chests collided together as he rode the wave of feeling and seizing the opportunity, Dean wrapped an arm around his back and sealed their lips together again. This time there was no finesse to his kisses but still he managed to steal Sam’s breath. He felt lightheaded and overwhelmed, overran with a riot of arousal as Dean seemed to take everything and still demanded more.

Dean pushed him down onto the bed again, the force of his thrusts jostling him.

“Sammy,” he moaned wetly into Sam’s neck before his hands slid into Sam’s pants, pulling down on the fabric. Sam froze for a moment and so did Dean. He lifted his face from where it was buried in Sam’s neck, and knelt between his legs. He looked so intense, keeping unwavering eye contact as he continued to pull Sam’s sleep pants down until he could feel the cool air on his bared skin.

It was too much and Sam turned away, breaking the eye contact. A soft unsure sound escaped him. Dean answered with his own sound. It was almost violent, uncontrollable as Dean attacked his mouth again. They were really gonna do this, Sam realized as Dean kept his palms firmly on his ass. The angle of his thrusts had changed also.

Sam had no doubt what Dean was aiming for. He could feel the hard outline of him pushing insistently against him but suddenly he wasn’t sure he was ready to take the next step. Suddenly the thought of what it would mean scared him just a little too much. He’d been the one to push for this but now he was hesitating out of fear because he knew that everything would change the moment they went there. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for that yet. It didn’t seem like Dean was going to give him a choice though with the way he was moving against him.

Panicking a little he pushed against Dean’s chest as he said, “Dean. Wait. Stop.”

“What?” Dean said confused but he stopped immediately.

“If you don't stop, I'm gonna come in like two seconds,” He said, grasping for an excuse. 

“I wanna see that Sammy. Let me see that. Please,” Dean begged coming in for more.

“Not in Jody's house,” Sam hurried to say as he pushed more insistently at his brother. “Let me up.”

“She won't know. Come on –” Dean tried again to cajole him into getting back to where they were.

“Dude,” he swallowed anxiously, running a distracted hand through his tussled hair. “I will die if Jody has to wash the sheets and see stains on them. Alright? I will literally die.”

Dean hovered over him consideringly for a moment. Sam could see the inner battle that struggled in him in the scrunching of his face. After a short while, he sighed resignedly. “Yeah alright. That would be a little bad,” he agreed as he slumped over Sam with a heavy and frustrated sigh. He rubbed his shadowed jaw absently against Sam’s neck for a long moment as they both tried to calmed themselves before taking in a deep breath. “Fine.” He stole a quick kiss from his lips and got off him to kneel on the bed again. “So?”

“So what?”

“Dude keep up. Still doubting my skills?”

Sam burst out laughing, beyond relieved. “You're an idiot.” He did want to do this with Dean but he wanted to do it on his terms and in Jody's basement was definitely not that.

“Yea but I'm your idiot. Right?”

“Get over here,” he said pulling Dean down onto the bed again. He was happy that Dean hadn't push him too much about going further than they had even though he could clearly see that he still wanted to. He memorized the indulgent smile Dean gave him as he moved in behind him, and pulled Sam against him, arms holding him tight and secure. Sam took in several more deep calming breaths in the silence.

“You know I don't actually think you're an idiot right?”

Dean chuckled in the semi-darkness, his breath tickling the hairs on Sam's neck. “Sleep Sam.”

“Night Dean,” he whispered content. For the first time, despite the arousal that refused to go away, things felt good. He didn't know if they were in a bubble that could pop at any moment but he knew that, at least for now, they were good.

-

Despite the fact that he woke up softly, almost gently, Sam knew that something had woken him up. For a moment he was confused. He didn't recognize the room or remember where he was. He felt movement behind him and craned his neck to look over in the semi darkness of the room.

In the split second it took Dean to turn over and look at him, the memories of the precious night came flashing back. He felt his cheeks heat up as their eyes met across the distance of the bed.

"Morning Sam," Dean said, voice rough with sleep. He turn to seat up in the bed, back facing Sam before stretching and getting up.

Sam could feel the frown set on his face. He reached out to grab Dean's hand before he could put too much distance between them. "Where are you going?"

Dean paused in Sam's grip. He turned back to look at Sam with this soft look. He couldn't remember ever seeing that look on Dean's face before and it made him pause.

"Back to my room in case Jody comes knocking."

For a moment he said nothing, letting Dean's hand go to swing down by his side. He looked at his own palm on the bed as Dean continued to stare at him patiently.

"What was all that last night?" he finally asked. "Was it a one time thing? Are we going to go back to pretending that there's nothing between us now?"

"Come on Sammy-"

"No Dean. I just want to know."

Dean sat back on the bed again, body angled towards Sam as he said, "It wasn't a one time thing and I don't have any regrets. I did it because I wanted to and I really liked kissing you. I told you I'm not running away anymore."

"So... What now?"

"We'll see how it goes. Like I said last night, I'm not gonna run away from this anymore." Dean was giving him that intense stare again, like he could see into his soul.

"Really," Sam said, running a self conscious hand through his hair and licking his lips.

"Yea," Dean said distracted as he watched Sam's tongue moisten his lip. "Come here," he said, leaning on one hand as he threaded his fingers in Sam's hair and kissed him.

Sam made a surprised sound at the unexpected contact and Dean smiled against his lips before pulling away.

"I want this Sammy. Even with your morning breath."

"You're not so fresh yourself you know."

Dean grinned a little before kissing him again. Pressing Sam slowly down onto the bed, he kicked the covers away and climbed over him.

Sam moaned a little into the soft biting kisses. He didn't understand why it felt so good and he lifted his head desperate for more when Dean pulled away slightly.

"Fuck, Sammy," he swore with a slight wobble to his voice and attacked Sam's mouth hungrily. Sam gasped through the kiss as Dean slid one thigh between his legs and rolled his hips unconsciously in the perfect glide.

Dean took advantage of his gasp to deepen the kiss. It was like he was starved for Sam and he couldn't get enough.

Sam was feeling overwhelmed. Dean was everywhere and his brain was whiting out with sensation. His back arched on a particularly tremulous shiver as Dean's hands slid beneath his shirt and his hips ground into him shoving their hard cocks together.

His phone gave a sudden loud shrill as it began to ring, pulling them apart with a groan of surprise and frustration.

Dean rested his forehead against Sam's as the phone continued to ring. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and reached for it. Reclaiming his seat back on the edge of the bed he clicked the answer button.

"Hey Sam, sorry to wake you," Jody's voice came over the line.

"Hey Jody. It's Dean."

Sam couldn't believe him. He was the one who'd said that he didn't want Jody to know they were in the room together and yet he just gave up the information.

He hit him over the shoulder to get his attention so Dean could see his annoyed look but Dean just bat at his hands and ignored him.

"No. Yes we decided to get an early start on the case. Didn't get a chance last night right,” he said giving Sam a pointed look

Sam felt like he had been betrayed as he sat up in the bed, head against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. He knew he was sulking and it was irrational but he couldn't help it.

"Hold on Jody. I'll put you on speaker." Dean did this and placed the phone on the bed between them. All the while giving Sam an apologetic look.

"Heya Sam."

"Hey Jody,"

"Sorry to spring this on you but I just got the call. They found another body. Same MO as the last ones. We think it's our guy."

Dammit!" Dean swore. "We were at the club last night.”

"Hold on now,” Jody was quick to cut him off. “Don't beat yourself up. You didn't miss anything. She's been dead for days at least and we didn't find her anywhere near the club. She did have their stamp on her hand but it was really faded. I need you boys to come and back me up on this.”

They hang up after a few more words and Dean turned to him. Sam could tell that Dean was tensing for some argument and he was right. "Sorry dude, I figured she wouldn't think it was weird if we were here together. Don't be mad.” 

"I'm not, but we have to be careful though. She wouldn't understand."

"Oh. I thought you'd be all _you_ about this. I was prepared for a whole lot more fighting. You feeling alright?" he went to rest his palm against Sam's forehead only for Sam to push him away in annoyance.

"I'm kidding," Dean chuckled before getting serious again. "I really wanna catch this guy soon," he said, sitting on the bed, subdued.

"Yea me too."

"Alright enough of this. Let's hurry up and get ready," Dean said, getting up off the bed only for Sam to grab at his hand again.

"Dean..."

Dean let out this resigned sigh as he crawled back onto the bed, coming up close to Sam, invading his space. "We don't have time for this right now," he said, pulling Sam close. "People are dying. But I promise as soon as it's done we will figure this out alright?"

He looked into Sam's eyes waiting for an answer. When Sam gave him a quick jerk of his head in agreement. He quickly locked lips in a harsh kiss and got off the bed.

"Now come on. We don't have time to be playing around. Jody's waiting for us."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading to the end. If you liked, please leave a [Kudos] or [Comment] to let me know. See you in the next one~


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